Forget Me Not
by MidnightHeir
Summary: Don has never had any reason to doubt his Father. He has kept him safe and warm for years now, catered to his every whim and treated him exceptionally well. So why does it feel like there is trouble in paradise? Winner of Best Villan and Drama 2nd Place
1. Chapter 1

_**FORGET-ME-NOT**_

_Disclaimer –_ I do not own (nor do I have any affiliation with) the TMNT, MIB, Discovery Channel, Kelsey Grammer or Frasier. That doesn't mean I'm not going to reference (and/or use)them though!

_A.N –_ Don is my 'Everest'. So if he is out of character, or anything else, please go easy when critiquing. Additionally, those kind enough to read, please review otherwise I'm never going to crack this turtle!

**_Key (ref. for later chapters);_**

_Italic – flashback  
__(Italic) – Private thought  
__**bold italic – nightmare  
**_**(bold) – Originating on a TV/monitor screen  
**_**...word… - sound effect**_

**_x-x-x-x_**

_**Chapter 1**_

_"A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals. And, you know it."  
__Agent K – Men In Black_

"Father?"

"Yes My Son?"

"What is it like out there?"

The elder looked up from his table to the flickering screen. The news report had done a fair job of capturing New York in a gratifying light for that day. The hues of blue melted seamlessly into the darker shades of royal purple and fading golds. Wisps of cloud ghosted across the skyline dancing around the high rise buildings though their inability to remain static hinted at their incapability to hide the truth about the city. A truth that the boy's father had been trying to instil into his son for what felt like a lifetime. Reaching across the sofa he switched the television off and turned to smile at his Son.

"It is …" once again his father paused, his dark eyes surveying his intelligent son with affection. "… a harsh place."

This didn't appear to please his ever curious son, slowly the slight turtle pressed his lips together into a firm line, the pen he held bouncing lightly off the rim of the leather bound folder whilst his eyes cast to the darkening skyline. On his lap lay his father's accounts and files, the discrepancy between this quarter and the previous as clear as the setting sun to his eyes. Someone was siphoning money from his Father's expenses account and to another source. Though why someone would steal from such a caring, loyal man he could not fathom.

"What is troubling you My Son?"

A ghost of a smile passed over his moss green complexion, two patient brown eyes meeting his father's more jaded mocha voids. Curious eyes that trusted what they saw before them, and yet yearned to learn so much more about the world in which he lived. "I'm …" he paused, the silence filled by the soft tap-tap-tap of plastic off leather "curious Father. You tell me that the world outside is cruel, and it's not that I don't want to believe you, I do. But …"

"You yearn to feel the sun upon your skin? The fresh cool air running across your face?" A larger smile spread over the middle aged man's face. Leaning back in his seat, two almond coloured hands threaded long digits together to create a small apex upon his lap. "Does the balconette not quench your thirst?"

The balconette had been installed days earlier. That was the brilliant thing about his Father, when he promised something he delivered. No matter what the cost. The structure had been built into the large facing glass wall of the boy's room, directly adjacent to his bed. Sacrificing six square foot of his large habitat had been no small feat but he had done so. And now, whenever the boy chose, he could open the sliding door and go out into the small enclosed space, some times he would sit and read, others lean up against the steel bars that ran where glass had once been and stare down into the street below. Observe the millions of tiny heads that bobbed and weaved their way through the streets, study the yellow backed cabs that clogged up the road. Count the roofs of the thousands of buildings he could make out on the skyline. "Oh no! I love the balconette Father!" A rich hue rose into his cheeks and the boy's eyes lowered to the open book before him. "It's just …"

"There is a whole world out there to explore?"

The turtle nodded his head slowly, his eyes raising from the page he started to work on once again to see how his Father would react. Though the man did not know it, the boy had over heard one or two of his more colourful outbursts. From his place at the smooth wooden table the man rose, the creases in his slate grey Armani business suit easily fading from the material. His steeped fingers remained interlaced as he approached his seated child. Letting out a small sigh the man knelt down before him, his dark eyes seeking to make contact with the boy's. Both hands extended out to take the turtle's wrists in a firm grip, before he pulled him gently to his feet and guided him towards the full length mirror that hung beyond the television.

At 6ft1 the boy's father towered over his Son by a full foot, his broad shoulders shrouded in the white silk shirt he had worn to work, the top button loosed and the black tie he had been wearing during office hours abandoned on the table behind him. "What do you see Son?" he asked softly, his hands resting on the boy's rounded shoulders. "What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"My Father?" the boy began uncertainly, "A picture of a schooner on the ocean?" One arm raised to point out the reflected photograph. His father had yet to stop him and his brow creased up in confusion. He sensed that his Father was trying to lead him to some conclusion, but he was at a loss as to what this was.

Seeing his child's struggle the man gave him another gentle push in the right direction. "Look at my face Son."

Eyes that had roamed the sleek blue-green walls with their expensive finishing touches turned to the reflected visage of his Father. Two deep set, brooding brown eyes, a mop of neatly cut, carefully styled dark brown hair that had yet to start balding. A prominent nose, a series of fine wrinkles around his mouth, and a deep line between clipped eyebrows. A small knick lay to his … right ear, at the very tip. And of course, last but not least the deep set scar that ran across his Father's face. Starting at the base of his left eye the ugly red line ran over his exposed cheek to the base of his nostril, and then down over his upper lip. Had his father not cried in pain the night he had been mugged then he had no doubt the permanent feature would extend still further down his face.

"Let me tell you something about the world Son. The world can be cruel, unforgiving and violent to those that are successful. And to those that do not conform it can be even worse." The man's breath tickled the back of his son's neck, his voice though soft and warm, held a menace that made the youth shudder. "Even to this day when I go out into the street people stare at me. And to all intents and purposes I 'fit in'."

Shifting under the weight of his Father gaze the boy pressed on. "But can't we give it a chance?" Perhaps his Father had a point. "I mean, look at you, and Mr Bass."

His Father chuckled softly, an action that always sent a shiver up the turtle's spine. "A person, Son can be made to understand. A person can be smart enough to look beyond the exterior, like our dear Mr Bass. But you see people; people are ignorant, narrow minded, dangerous creatures that cannot be trusted with the truth. They don't have the strength of character to stand up and be counted as anything other than part of a mob." Straightening up the cold look in his Father's eye faded, "And mob mentality is a dangerous thing."

"Of course Father."

Two hands lifted from the shoulders of the boy, and the older man offered his Son a small smile. "I am sorry Son. Now …" turning from him he indicated the stray folder. "How are my stocks and shares coping in the market?"

Reluctantly the boy returned to the open folder with a wry smile. Once again it was not that he did not appreciate receiving his allowance. Nor did he mind earning it, but though number crunching came easily to him, it did not stir his soul. It was so dull, checking figures in one column before adding them up and then dividing them in a second or third. Picking up the sheaf of papers he checked them over, the pen idly spinning between the finger and thumb of his free hand. "I can't account for 13 000 dollars Father. It just doesn't seem to be present." He missed a beat with his pen and the small tube dropped onto the carpeted floor. Folding the booklet round on itself he continued to check his calculations for the fifth time. "It looks like 3000 dollars, or there about, was being diverted every month for the past quarter." He finally surmised, his stubby green finger highlighting the sections where the money had been transferred out.

"Interesting." His father smiled at him, "That is something that I would not have noticed."

"Why would someone want to steal from you?"

"I do not know, but clearly I am going to have to find out."

Once again the boy signalled his displeasure in his Father's answer with a small sigh. Turning away from the mirror he glanced out at the thick midnight-blue blanket that was settling over the New York horizon. "Couldn't I go out now? Just for a second?" The boy's arms wrapped around his middle, and he continued to study the vast blue sea that stretched out before him. "Or at least go up on the roof?"

At the far end of the large room the door slid open. Neither were bothered to see a large, broad shouldered man squeeze through the small space, his long blonde hair scraped back into a neat braid that started at the base of his skull and extended down to his waist. The black silk shirt he wore, strained over his impressively wide frame, his lower limbs and the waist itself looking oddly out of proportion with the rest of his gigantic size. In one hand he balanced a small tray, covered with a white cloth, in the other he held a compact metal case.

"Evening." He grunted quietly, placing the metal case down to pull the door shut behind him. "Want any help settin' this up B-Mr Saki?"

Father's eyes moved from his son to newcomer and then back again, "No, I am quite capable of looking after my own Son Mr Bass."

"Right." Nodding his head 'Mr Bass' placed the small tray down onto the side table by their guest's bed before exiting.

"Now?"

"Yes Son. You want these nightmares to stop don't you?"

Sighing the turtle nodded his head. "You know I do Father."

"Then let us rid ourselves of these demons once and for all."

Standing the turtle was given a playful push in the middle of his shell towards his bed as he trudged slowly over. Perching on the side of the bed, he removed the pristine white cloth and looked at the hateful blue pills that sparkled on the dull metal surface of the tray. To their side, present in a cheap plastic cup, was the water with which to wash them down with.

"Can't I just try one tonight? The dreams weren't so bad last night."

At the foot of the bed his Father was slowly unfurling the lengths of wires that would monitor his brain activity whilst he slept. The nightmares were terrible, horrific affairs that at times felt so disturbingly real that the young boy feared the peace that night time brought. Looking up his Father smiled at him sadly, "Son, Mr Bass had to wake you in the early hours last night. You know it pains me to see you troubled so."

"I do, Father." Glancing back to the tray one last time he stood up, choosing to pull back the thick cashmere blankets and nestle beneath the covers before taking his medication. Puffing up the pillow he lent back against it, curious to see how his Father prepared the machine, as always it was plugged in before the settings were programmed in. Wiggling his right finger he helped the man attach the device, the one on the tip of his finger he was assured acted as a panic button. Then three pads were attached to his forehead, one at each temple, with the third laying over the 'third eye'.

Taking the cup in his free hand and the pills in his wired one the boy smiled at his father. "Stay? Until I'm sleeping." he implored softly. Letting out a long sigh he placed the two pills on his tongue, before taking a large gulp of water to wash them down. Wincing at their bitter taste he handed the cup to his waiting Father, relieved to see the man settle down on the side of his bed. Gently he adjusted the covers around his boy's slender shoulders, his gaze steady and attentive.

"Sleep well, Son." He instructed softly, his warm tone seemingly supported by a tiny spark that lit the man's eyes. Leaning forward he turned on the machine, before returning to his patient vigil at his son's side. The silence that permeated the air was gently broken by the generator of the small machine.

"This will work won't it?" he murmured sleepily, the soft hum of the device only serving to further lull the boy to slumber.

"Of course it will."

"Re'ly?"

"Would I ever lie to you, my precious, precious Son?" Saki whispered softly, his eyes narrowing whilst he studied his prize catch … yes, acquiring Donatello had been a stroke of genius on the part of his men. An absolute stroke of genius.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

The night air was rich, and he could have hugged his Father for relenting. The rooftop was in no way the best method of experiencing the wider world, but it was a start. As instructed he kept away from the outer rim of the flat grey surface, remaining amongst the shadows and additional structures. Inhaling deeply he smiled as the rush of fresh icy air flooding his chest. There was no moon, and only a handful of stars littering the dark orb over head. In the distance he could make out streams of rain clouds, but they would not strike the city for a while yet. In his hand he held the latest gift his Father had bought for him.

When presented with the small leather bound box before his impromptu rooftop visit he had been unsure if he was to be punished or rewarded. Upon opening the expensive box his heart had soared. It was by no means a vibraphone but it was a start. The harmonica had been wrapped in soft grey silk, and engraved. Beneath the object had been the instructions, and though it would take some time, he was determined to conquer the instrument. Settling down amongst the shadows he gave the piece an experimental blow, wincing at the clashing notes. Oh well, there was plenty of time to learn.

At the rooftop entrance his Father lingered with Mr Bass, the two deep in conversation over the accounts, or so he was led to believe.

"I don't like it; he's asking too many questions."

"Great plans take time, Hun." Folding his arms over his chest the man kept his shrewd eyes targeted on his adopted Son. "Son!" the usual cold manner he employed when talking to his assistant melted away. "Five minutes, as agreed."

Pulling a face the boy lovingly packed away the harmonica, "Five more?" the whiny tone did nothing to shake his father's resolve, "Please!" he added, sticking to the fringes of the aerial.

"Now, Son …" smiling in good nature Saki, walked over the exposed space towards the lingering turtle.

Ducking under the metal support he clambered up the low branches on the support, his arms slipping through the open spaces he settled down there and grinned down at his father, his feet swinging idly before his face. Chuckling softly Saki looked up at his adopted child, "My Son, I know you have no desire to face these demons again, but regular treatment _is_ necessary if you want them defeated. Now, would you like some help getting down from up there?"

Pouting at his father he nodded his head slowly, allowing the older man to put his foot against the metal support and step up to put a hand on his back. Sliding down the structure he stared up at his father expectedly. Blowing out air through his lips he took his father's extended hand. Gripping it tightly, he smiled up at him, before walking towards the open door Mr Bass held for them. Dragging his steps he turned back to the open space, inhaled the fresh air for one final time before reluctantly heading inside.

_**

* * *

**__**Smoke, lots of it, churning, dancing, snaking around him. No matter which way he turned more and more smoke poured forth, coating him, working into his lungs and choking him. He couldn't breath, one hand came to his mouth and he tried to clear his throat. To no avail. Escape! It was the first thought in the back of his mind, he had to get out of this place, this dark, swirling maddening world with its half formed beasts and twisted meanings. Stumbling backwards he bumped into another figure, turning sharply he stared at the hazy creature … **_

_It had to be a trap, they had all known that. The problems had come in identifying what sort of trap Shredder and his men had in store. Remaining sitted in the vehicle they had studied the warehouse for a long time. In the front of the Hummer Leo had stood, staring through the windshield at the building that Hun had disappeared into seconds earlier. He was at a loss, what was Hun doing, wandering around at night, alone, with no clear intention? _

"_It could be a snake pit."_

"_Huh?"_

"_Trainin' ground fer new recruits."_

"_Definitely not wanting to waltz into one of them." Mikey had piped up. It would be inevitable that his brothers would send him in first, just to look. He was the fastest, which meant making a break for it was always easier._

"_Mi- …" Leo turned from his critical visual._

"_Goin' …" Slipping out the back of the van he jogged across the street, disappearing into an alley one building over. After a few moments of radio silence their brother's initial report came buzzing through the speaker phone, "Can't see Hun. Just a bunch of regular Foot packin' an' stackin' stuff. I'm comin' back."_

"_No Hun?"_

"_Nada"_

_At the time Leo's decision had been considered sound, and reasonable. He didn't like it, that much his brothers had gained from his expression, but if it was just a handful of Foot, at a storage facility who was he to walk away? _

"_Get some smoke grenades Don, we're going in …"_

* * *

The nightmare was not an uncommon one, in his bed the young boy began to toss and turn.

"_**Father!" the words caught in his throat, "Father, help me!" another wheezing cough broke from his mouth, instinctively he knew the next part of this dream. Turning sharply his wide, now watering eyes sought out the silhouettes of the demons. The monsters that were just like him, only wrong. Insane animals that hunted him during his sleeping hours. His hand caught on something and he turned sharply to see one on the floor, trying to drag him down into the unhealthy black abyss at his feet. "FATHER!" he screamed, jerking away from the vice like grip of the animal.**_

_As they had expected there was a trap. Climbing up to the rooftops the four had stared in through the same skylight Mike had been using seconds earlier. "How many?"_

"_15?" Don had surmised after a quick scan of the ferreting men. "Can't be many more."_

"_Okay, this is what we're going to do. Don, drop the bombs, we hit hard and fast, take them out, then get out."_

"_Hun gotta know we were followin' him Leo …"_

"_I know that Raph. But for once I think we may have just got lucky. Bringing us to a store room is hardly going to disrupt Shredder's bigger plans is it?" _

_And that had been the reluctant end to the conversation. Raph and Leo had made short work of the skylight whilst Don and Mike had rigged up the ropes they would use to drop in. Both of the quieter turtles worked rapidly, the rigs and ropes ready to go in expert time. What happened next no one could have predicted … _

* * *

"FATHER!" his terrified cry for comfort broke from his nightmare world, and into the real one. His arms thrashed about amongst the layers of expensive silk material. Snagging one of the wires that came from his cranium he ripped the pad from his temple, the sharp pain jolting him awake.

"Yagh!" Shaking, he slowly let one breath after another out through his mouth, his eyes wide and glassy as he stared at the dark silhouette at the end of his bed. Beneath the covers he used the top of his sheet to wipe the collecting beads of sweat from his brow, his upper body falling backwards onto the mattress. "Father …" he whimpered to the still, dark room, his legs curling up under his body, whilst his hands knotted the material of the sheets in between his fingers. In the darkness he felt the tranquilisers he had taken earlier in the evening tug at his eyelids, fighting the urge to return to sloth brought echoes of his nightmare into the real world.

"Daddy …" he implored the eerily quiet room. The shadows around his bedroom began to tip and dance, clouds of smoke billowed out from the walls tickling his nostrils and making the back of his throat itch. Coughing quietly he let out a quiet sob. "Just leave me alone …"

To have his room flood with light brought a relieved, though shattered, smile to the turtle's face. "Daddy?" he murmured, his head now resting against the soft pillow.

"No Kid." Mr Bass, head of the security, and primary care giver during the wee hours walked over to the bed. Folding his arms he stared at the drugged child coldly. "What can I do for you?"

"I had another bad dream."

Nodding his head Mr Bass came over and squatted down, "Well that's gonna happen if the pads fall off." Squeezing a little gel onto the underside of the pad he reattached it with firm pressure.

"That hurts …" he moaned at the only other person who knew him.

"Stop being a baby Kid. It's just a piece of plastic."

"Where's Father?"

"Getting some sleep, like the rest of us should be." The man-mountain paused, "Want another magic bullet?"

Rubbing one eye he nodded his head slowly, his arms wrapping around the pillow so that he could hug it close to him for comfort. "Uh-huh. When are they going to stop?"

"Soon Kid, real soon." Hun smiled at his special guest, "And thatsa promise"

* * *

**_A.N -_** When I refer to Donny as my 'Everest' I mean he is the hardest turtle to get down personality wise. Second guessing him doesn't come naturally to me. Additionally I would like to add a huge thanks to Rene, Sassy, Fallen Hikari, Lioness-Goddess, Lexy8, In The Clouds, sporksareweird, LN shannon and pacphys for the R&R!


	3. Chapter 3

_Additional Disclaimer -_ I do not own, nor do I have any affiliation with Friday the 13th and Jason, the ComedyChannel, Lucie Silvas FANTASTIC SINGER or Tracy Chapman. Though I may use them at some point in this tale.

_A.N - _Agh! I've confused people ... okay, from the top. Hopefully. To my knowledge Hun is older than the TMNT, thus making them all kids relatively speaking. When he uses the term 'kid' he is using it as a sneering term of endearment. Don is seen to be saying 'Daddy' because when I was seriously ill I didn't ask for my mother, or mum, I asked for my 'mummy'. I'm merely applying the same logic to Don right now. Hope that helps!

**_x-x-x-x_**

_**Chapter 3**_

_The smoke bombs dropped in through the open surface, their precious reactive chemicals reacting with the air to form a cloud that billowed and spread out over everything. On the count of two the ropes were thrown in, the metal winches attached and the four brothers leapt in._

_There was something wrong. Upon hitting the cloud of smoke their eyes began to water, and their throats itch. Reaching the end of the rope the four brothers dropped down onto the floor, their legs unable to fully support their weight as the atmosphere around them continued to react with the already present, deliberately added, additional gases. _

_Doubling over Leo, covered his mouth, "Don? What's going on?"_

"_I don't know Leo." Coughing and choking he turned sharply to stare at one of the Foot who was closing on him. "But we ne- …" another hollow choking cough racked through his chest. "Need …to …ge…" _

…_**THUNK…**_

_The sound of one body striking the warehouse floor was closely followed by the sound of another one of his brother's succumbing to what he could only assume was some sort of sedative in the gas cloud. His own vision blurred as his legs cut out, only to have his fall broken by two thick arms. Don's head fell back onto the crook of his catcher's arm, his eyes rolling to the back of his head before he could see who had chosen to save him._

_When Raphael had come to the warehouse was all but empty, the wooden crates that were stacked up along the walls and across the floor bare. Some of the stacked boxes were tipped over, their shattered bodies obscuring his view. Slowly he pushed himself up off the floor, his eyes dry and aching. His head pounded due to the pressure of the fall he had taken. Coughing once to try and clear the cottonmouth sensation he had in his mouth he looked around. It took him a few seconds to focus his eyes, but when he did so what he saw turned his stomach. _

_At his feet lay his weapons, right where he had dropped them before passing out. His ShellCell lay untampered also at his side. Lying on his side, groaning softly not more than three feet away lay Leo. It looked like he was in the process of coming out of it too. Thank God. That just left Donny and Mikey. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs he stumbled over to one of the hanging ropes, and an extended green leg. If anything had happened to whichever brother that was Shredder would have Hell to pay … thankfully Mikey was doing alright, he complained of feeling sick but other than that seemed fine. _

_Which meant there was just Donny left …and it didn't take long for Raph, or his dazed brothers to figure out that Donny was no where in sight._

* * *

Don's stuff lay on the dojo floor, with only Mikey for company at this moment in time. With his arms folded, and his lips pursed he mulled over the odd scene that had greeted them ages back. Why go to all the hassle of nabbing Don, and then go ahead and leave behind all of his gear? And he meant all of it. The bo, the belt, arm and leg guards, even his bandanna. What did ol' Tin-Skin think he was going to achieve ditching his stuff like that? It hadn't exactly taken rocket science to figure out that with Don not present at the scene of the crime he must be present at the scene of the latest Shred plan. Now the only problem he and his brothers had lay in trying to figure out what_ that_ was. 

Shaking his head, he sighed and went back to his other pass time. Watching April mess about with the grenades so that they couldn't be k-o'd by their own smoke again. In any other circumstance Mikey would have found that little quirk amusing. The way he saw it, credit where credit was due, that had been really rather inspired on the part of ol'Shred to pull a stunt like that. Except it had cost him a brother, and that wasn't cool.

* * *

They made an odd trio, each stood in the curved metal arch that marked the door way to Splinter's private quarters, each held a mug in their hands, one filled with industrial strength coffee, the next water whilst Mikey had opted for chocolate milk. Each nursed their mugs, the red head blowing on her coffee before taking a small sip. 

"How long have they been doing that?" she asked the turtle to her right. Her brown eyes never leaving the two sitting individuals, legs crossed, arms partially raised, breathing deep and even.

"Dunno. But they aint had any hits on the psychic radar yet."

April nodded, taking another short drink from her cup. "I've managed to change the smoke in the grenades."

"Really?" Mike's head tilted to one side, his silent reverie of Sensei and brother losing his interest now that there was nothing going on.

"Yes, I've added some radon. So no more itching, fainting or laughing on the job." April chuckled softly; the past three weeks had been a series of trial and error experiments whilst trying to discover what it was Shredder had done. Some of her combinations had been more than a little … odd.

"Good. Means we can go out an' kick so'e sh!t" Raph growled, his eyes noting the shift in Leonardo's position. Someone was coming back to the land of the living, and for the sake of Raph's temper he had better have some good news. His paper thin patience had exceeded its limits a week ago, and now there was no technical reason to hang around he was ready to go out and get some answers, any which way he could.

* * *

Nothing, no matter where they looked there was nothing. Sensei and protégée had searched the physical, the metaphysical and the astral plane and other than a general 'sense' that Don was still alive his essence felt warped. Like it was being stifled by some other form of chi, external or otherwise. 

The serene, blank masks of rat and turtle began to crease, the older and more experienced man pulling his senses and physical awareness back into being long before his son. Rotating both of his wrists to relieve the tension that existed there Splinter unfolded his leg with a regal grace. To his audience of three he gave a small shake of his head.

"My Son is well." He reported, "But that is all I can gauge."

Splinter's dark pools turned to his eldest's face; his breathing remained even and balanced though his brow was starting to crease under the pressure of pushing his mind to its limits. "Leonardo." His child ignored the call, and continued his intense scrutiny of the astral plane, Don had to be here _somewhere _"Leonardo!" this time the sound of his Father's voice cut through his disciplined concentration. "That is enough." Sighing he withdrew, the shifting, swirling colours fading to the redish-black that marked the back of his closed eyelids.

"I've got nothing …" he murmured, reluctantly opening his eyes to greet his curious audience.

"Well that's okay." Mikey piped up, "Cos Ape's gone and fixed our grenades, which means we can go out and do some good old fashioned reccie round HQ and other PD hot spots!"

"Well that's something I suppose …" Leo hated failing. Shaking his head slowly he got up and went to get something to eat. Then he would have to sit down and figure _something _out with his brothers.

* * *

**Reinbeauchaser -** This tale reminds you of Christmas? Okay ... Well I hope this chapter excites you as much as the others did. BTW, not sure what happened to the other review, it turned up in my inbox, but FF seems to have eaten it. Thanks though!  
**Mickis -** Howdy, thanks for stopping by. Does the A.N answer the question?  
**Ramica -** Someone who agrees! Thank you, by the time this is done I hope I've Don justice. Stockholm Syndrome, good idea but I've burnt off Smallville.  
**FFAngel -** Hey there! Sorry, didn't see the review when I updated, thanks for stopping by, and hope you enjoy!  
**Fallen Hikari -** Hope you're liking it, same as Mickis does the A.N clear up the confusion?  
**pacphys -** THANK YOU! I should have added this in at the first chappie, but cheers for the beta reading on the first chap and a half, the grammar checking, and most importantly of all, the DON COACHING. You are a star!  
**Sassy -** Hey ... thank you for the compliment and kudos. To answer another Q Erinyes is stalled at the moment, but it will appear ... one day ... possibly over Easter.

To _shannon_, _Sqweakie The Wonder Mouse_, _spoorksareweird_, _kikiyophoenix19 _- THANKS for stopping by and dropping a review. I hope you like where it goes ...


	4. Chapter 4

_A.N; Sorry about the long delay, due to an unexpected death in my family I've been a little off kilter. Anyway, I'm back now ..._

_Disclaimer - _Man!I really hope this is the last one! I have very little knowledge of my modern TMNT (2003 - ?). So, from the top, I like my Shredder's human, my Stockman's only slightly crazy, and my Hun's are larger, slightly saner, significantly more sadistic versions of Casey! Consider this a char disclaimer on any OOC moments the above may have later in the tale.

_**x-x-x-x**_

_**Chapter 4**_

'_Blow, then suck, followed by one short sharp puff of_ _air'_ It was hardly rocket science, and yet every time he attempted the note, it sounded like someone had taken a small dust ball and wedged it into the grooves of his harmonica. Feeling the taste of metal on the tip of his tongue he repeated the written instructions, his hands moving over the open end of his prized possession with practiced ease.

"Son?"

The child paused in his exercise, swivelling around on his place on the floor to capture the profile of his eager, devoted Father. With one leg dangling through the metal bars of his balconette, and his back up against the wall of reinforced glass he grinned. At this time in the day the man would have the daily accounts with him, a boring part of his daily chores, and he would much rather play with his latest reward than go through the arduous task of number crunching in order to earn another prize. As such he chose to lay low, and hide amongst the expensive out door furniture, and admire the view in silence.

"Son …" Saki's voice held a light, playful note. So his beloved child was hiding from him, and who was he to blame him? He had heard the complaints about the accounts on more than one occasion, but that didn't stop him from bringing them in to be done. As he had explained on more than one occasion following the illegal activities of his previous accountant he only chose to trust his beloved Son with the affairs of his company now. "Come out, come out where ever you are …" he cooed.

Standing in the middle of the large bedroom Saki's keen eyes surveyed the open plan room. When he had been creating this glass prison he had purposely laid out every thing in this manner in order to minimise the number of places his willing hostage could hide away. "Are you … in the closet?" he called loudly, striding over to the walk in wardrobe that was full of board games, books and food. Throwing the doors open he half expected to find him behind the book shelves once again, but following a quick search came back empty handed. "No?" Turning around sharply he marched out, his hands shooting to his hips as he adopted the pose of an angry man. "Well, you don't fit beneath the bed … which means you MUST …" his eyes caught the reflection of his patiently waiting child in the mirror, "be on the balconette!"

Crossing the room, he slid the shut door open stepping out into the mid-afternoon sun and light summer breeze. Placing the leather accounts folder down onto the small metal picnic table Saki walked up to the curved metal barrier, and leant against it, his arms folding over the lip of the cross section, each elbow leaning against the top of the smooth metal pole. Shifting his weight onto his forearms one foot lifted upright to its apex, whilst the other rested against the lip of the balconette, between the lower bar and platform he stood upon. His expression remained casual and relaxed, though when he spoke, his tone was harsher, and curious. "Tell me boy, did you not hear me call?"

"I heard Father." His eyes looked through the bars of the balconette, his pupils watching the tiny heads that ran up and down the street.

"Then why did you not answer?"

"I didn't want to do the accounts. They are so boring."

Saki stifled a small chuckle, "Of course they are. That is why I pay others to do them."

"Really? I thought it was against business rules and regulations to have the CEO do his own accounts. He could 'fix them'." The child's tone became light and playful though he challenged his father.

"Someone has been reading their codes and conducts I see." Saki was impressed, with sufficient grooming his former enemy would make a mighty asset.

The boy shrugged, "It makes you happy, and it gets me one step closer to a vibraphone, so …"

"Ah yes. The vibraphone." Saki's eyes moved back out to the cityscape, his relaxed posture tensing slightly, "Move your leg in from there." Surprised his son complied, "I have no desire to see you injured Son." He added moments later, "Where would I be without my heir?"

"You'd still have me take over? Even with these stupid nightmares?" Placing his beloved harmonica down onto the smooth surface that had once been a part of his room, he began to pick at his finger nails.

"Mr Bass had reported that those nightmares had ended. It is not like you to lie to me."

"_That_ one has." He muttered quietly, his eyes casting downwards whilst he worked away at invisible flecks of dirt. "Now there's a new one."

"A new one?"

"And it's scarier. It feels so _real_. And _they_ are in it." He stopped working on picking at the flecks of dirt, and started to brush the invisible dirt off his now raised legs.

"They?"

He didn't like to feel like this. Like he was going crazy, but the whole scene kept playing through his mind. This one was more vivid than the other one and more violent. "Yes. They … they …" he fell silent and went back to distracting himself with other useless activities. At this moment in time there was a convenient gull high wheeling through the sky, catching updraft after updraft before dipping out of his line of vision lower down the building.

"Go on …" his Father instructed gently.

"You'll think I'm going crazy. I mean I know I'm one of a kind, but …" again he broke off, this time for a flock of errant pigeons. His body language continued to close up, his fingers meshing together to form a tight ball on the apex of his bent knees.

His Father's shadow fell over him, the older, taller man dropped down onto his haunches, his hands wrapping around his child's wrists in the same manner he had previously. Lifting the small clubbed fists he moved his visage around until he had succeeded in capturing his son's attention. "There is no problem that cannot be solved. But in order for me to help you My Son, I need to know exactly what it is that troubles you so."

"It's the smoke. I … I got out of the smoke a couple of nights ago, I don't think it was some sub-conscious manifestation of confusion anymore though." Pausing he looked at his Father, keen to see if he had recalled the description Mr Bass had used correctly. Since his Father didn't appear anything other than concerned he continued uncertainly "It didn't make things any clearer. It took me to this shop … or something. And the smoke it isn't white any more, it's black, and thick, and there is all of this heat. It feels like there is a fire, burning and twisting everything up. And this … this 'me' came in. All beaten up. And … and there… there were two more, it felt _so_ real. And I .. I couldn't breathe Father, and I was so scared, and these people?" "These things kept coming out of the darkness and they were swallowing the room, they had these curved blades, and clubs. It's relentless, and confusing, and it makes no sense at all."

His father was silent for a few moments, "I think the accounts can wait Son." Tugging on his child's wrists he succeeded in getting his child onto his feet. "There is something that you need to be made aware of."

* * *

**Ramica - **I totally sympathise ... but eh ... we will see how this goes ...  
**Reinbeauchaser _-_** It was for the first chapter of this story. I really don't know what happened to it, but as long as you're cool with the mysterious disappearing review I am! Just didn't want you thinking I'd deleted it or anything. Glad you like the humor, I think you kinda need some of it to lighten the spiel as we all go!  
**pacphys_ -_** And the guys really appreciate it! But can you let go now? April is having some trouble breathing!  
**Fallen Hikari _-_** Oh ... Saki is thinking a little outside the box ...  
**Sassy _-_** Not a prob babe! Will reply to the email soon. Promise! hugs ya for the burnout

And finally - a huge thanks to_ Mickis_, _shannon_, _Lexy8_, _In-The-Clouds_ and _LN_ for taking the time to stop by, and dropping a message.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

_There is fiction in the space between  
The lines on your page of memories  
Write it down but it doesn't mean  
You're not just telling stories_

Telling Stories – Tracy Chapman

If Oroku Saki was the head of the Foot, and Hun was the leader of the Purple Dragons then Tobias would have be considered the right hand man to the man-mountain. At first when he had accepted the task of running the gang in his superior's absence he had relished it, the violence, the freedom to terrorise the local neighbourhood, yes that all appealed to him. But like any good bully when the shoe slipped onto the other foot the tough-man exterior melted away to reveal the petrified coward that lurked within.

And right now, Tobias Kendall was terrified. No matter which way he ran one of those god forsaken _things_ cut off his escape. He didn't understand _why_ they were toying with him so, but they wouldn't leave him alone. Pausing in the middle of Hyde Park to catch his breath he doubled over, his hands on his knees he felt a wave of nausea run through him, goddamnit he wasn't used to this sort of exercise. Throwing up he looked up, and let out a scream …

**_x-x-x-x_**

It was the first time that Father had let him out of his room for any length of time. And with wide curious eyes he drank in everything that he saw. The lavish nature of his large abode extended beyond the double mahogany doors that marked its threshold. For now as he was guided through the warren of corridors and stairways he clung tightly to his Father's hand, sharing a small smile with the caring man before returning to studying the pictures that littered the walls.

Finally man and child entered a large, sterile room. White walls extended out in all directions with metal sculptures littering the walls and open space. At the far end of the minimalist room was a clear plastic table, on top of which sat an alien looking computer monitor, a horrible skeletal structure that was no thicker than a chocolate bar. The room was clinical; a total juxtaposition to his own room and the warm hues and wooden furniture that adorned it. The child's grip tightened as he was led to the monitor at the far end of the room.

"This is my office." Saki explained gently, "I find that I can get far more done if there is nothing to capture my attention."

The room sent chills up his spine, pressing his lips into a thin line he gave his father one more tiny side ways glance, before relaxing his grip and sitting on the curved plastic chair that was pro-offered him. Drawing his legs up he perched there, watching the large screen whilst it burst into life.

"These … _things_ that haunt you so." Saki began slowly, "I'm afraid they are _very_ real, and _very _dangerous."

**_x-x-x-x_**

How did they do it? Tobias could have sworn that he had been running from this one only seconds ago, leaving him in the trees. From his bent position he studied the angry face of the green animal. Drank in the way it moved on its legs with steady even steps, eyed the two large metal forks that were wedged in the front of a thick brown leather belt around its middle. It seemed to notice his interest in them and pulled one out, gripping the handle firmly in one hand, whilst he played with the sharp tip, pressing it against the tip of his middle finger on his other hand, and spinning it round in a small circle. It's attention remained focused on the task it busied itself with before two sharp, clearly intelligent eyes shot up.

"Jeez Tobe … is that _all_ yo'got?"

**_x-x-x-x_**

"What!" the boy moved so fast in the curved chair that he succeeded in knocking it, and himself over.

"Calm yourself My Son." Saki instructed, "I did not think that it would be important to your upbringing."

"How, how could you say something like that? Where are they? What happened to them?"

"Shhh …" Helping his child to his feet Saki clicked on a small folder on the desktop. The sky blue screen flooded with a detailed folder. "Sit, and I shall tell you all that I know." Slowly his child settled back into the chair he had tipped down, unperturbed when his father stood behind him, one arm closing off his means of escape on the right, whilst the other controlled the mouse. "Eighteen years ago there was a small, private company experimenting in hormone growth, and the effect it would have on test subjects. When the government found out they shut the company down, and terminated all said subjects." His dark brown eyes scanned the screen, slowly he clicked on a small folder icon. "Unfortunately when the police went in there to do such a task they underestimated the effect such illegal activity would have on certain species. For instant on the rodents it was used on they grew to humanoid levels, and developed something that resembled intelligence, but they died 'young'. So they were easy to eradicate. When they moved onto other species anomalies began to occur." He paused, in the reflection of the screen he caught his child's wide eyed fear. As he had expected his son looked both amazed and terrified in equal measure. Also, as he expected his child uttered his favourite statement;

"And?"

"Are you sure?"

The child nodded his head slowly.

**_x-x-x-x_**

Blinking slowly Tobias took a small step backwards. "What the HELL are you?"

"Oh I dunno …" Raphael looked around the seemingly deserted area, "Le's jus' say I'm curious."

**_x-x-x-x_**

"From what I have been able to gather you are the youngest of four. Why they chose to work with turtles I will never know. But you are the only 'stable' test subject. You demonstrate the ability to reason, interact and think things through. Your predecessors do not. The …" Saki paused, "the 'eldest' is what you would call sociopathic."

**_x-x-x-x_**

It could talk … and though it took a few seconds for Toby to absorb this information it galvanised him into action Turning around, he ignored the sharp stabbing sensation in his side and tried to run. He didn't get very far, from the tree boughs above his head another dropped. Agile and quick the orange clad turtle tackled the grown man into the ground, his hands wrapping tightly around his upper arms, thumbs digging into pressure points and sending a tingling feeling down to his hands.

"Not smart!" he cried in a disturbingly child like manner. Using the momentum of his fall to pull the man to his feet he hurled him into the side of a tree, his happy –go-lucky expression not matching his violent, positively vindictive actions. "Dude, you really aren't the brightest light in the store are you?"

Behind his shoulder Toby struggled for his breath, his lower back aching upon where it had impacted. His eyes widened as the first one stopped playing with his pointed fork. Tossing it up he caught it by its sharpened tip, "Mike …" hurling it at the trapped man he spoke over the humans scream of pain, "I didn't know you had it in yo'!"

Releasing their catch Mikey blushed, cupping his hands he dipped like a Southern Belle, his child like nature, and poor accent mustering a small laugh from his angry, violent brother. "Aw shucks kin' suh. Yo' maken mah blush."

**_x-x-x-x_**

"Sociopathic? What does that mean?" though he had no idea, it didn't sound good.

"The scientists were able to make the shell grow, but the mental age remained stunted. It was trapped with the mind of a child, it possesses a child's innocence, a child's sense of right and wrong." Saki turned to look at his own boy, "This , this makes it _very _dangerous to be around. It doesn't possess the ability to recognise when enough is enough, making it capable of being vindictive, and petty. Often it takes things to extremes when it doesn't get its own way throwing tantrums and being incredibly sneaky."

In his chair the turtle slunk back, "So it's unpredictable?"

"Incredibly. It's almost impossible to guess what it is going to do next. As such it was locked away and the scientists tried again …"

_**x-x-x-x**_

Walking up to Toby Raph toyed with the handle of his sai, standing to one side he studied the way his blade had pierced the flesh, his throw had been good and true, burying the blade, and its prongs deep into the tree bark, and leaving the hilt about half a centimetre from the exposed flesh of his palm.

"Yo' know so'ethin' Tobe. All we wanna do is talk. But hey, if yo'wanna raise Hell, kick an'scream, make out like yo'a tough man. I'm mo'e than happy t'accommodate yo'."

Breathing hard Toby nodded his head slowly, tears that flooded his eyes fell when he blinked, "Okay …"

"But don't beg us not to hurt ya! Cos Raph's all ticked off … so either way, he's prolly gonna!" Mikey piped up in his usual manner, his arm tossing over his brother's shoulder.

"I don't know what it is you want! I swear I'm just a small fish, I don't know ANYTHING …"

Raph's hand wrapped around the hilt of his wedged blade, looking at Mikey he yanked it down, finally releasing the trapped blood that had oozed around the metal that had been there. "Yo'might not, but we're gonna be th'judge o'that!"

**_x-x-x-x_**

"… though they succeeded in getting the mind to grow with the body they were still unable to eradicate the mental imbalances. The second is violent, angry, at times the men in charge of its care even labelled it homicidal. It was easily angered, and became incredibly aggressive if it did not get what it wanted."

"So they caged it? And tried again?" on the screen the youngster keenly read over the official reports documenting the experimentation and findings.

"Precisely. The third to successfully make it from the embryo stage is quite possibly the most dangerous of the three."

"Why? No … I haven't finished reading that one …" the youth cried, dismayed to see the report on the second disappear.

"I'll give you all of the documentation I have once I have finished this tale." His father reassured him.

"Okay. What went wrong with the last one?"

"Nothing. You are the youngest, the last one My Son." Chuckling softly he smiled fondly at his child.

Laughing quietly, he smiled at his Father's term of endearment. "You know what I mean …" he teased, shoving playfully at the arm controlling the mouse.

"It's meglomanic." In response to the blank, critical expression reflected in the screen Saki expanded on his explanation. "It cannot be wrong. It possesses a conscience of sorts but has a taste for power and skulduggery and wields it with little remorse. It believes, rightly or wrongly, that it is a God, with a single-minded determination to get results, no matter what."

_**x-x-x-x**_

The third turtle in the open interrogation forum was quiet, whilst the one that had been referred to as 'Raph 'continued to strike Toby in a variety of ways, his child like counterpart remained happy to play the 'good' cop in the entire scenario. But it was the patient and thoughtful expression on the face of the blue masked individual that bothered him the most. That, and the two swords that were strapped to his back.

Slowly, and with careful deliberation he drew one of the said weapons and approached the crying, shaking man. When he spoke, his voice was low and even, devoid of the anger that the red one possessed, and lacking the eerie child like quality the other exuded from his very being.

"You get one chance Mr Kendall. One chance to tell me exactly what I want to know, or else Raphael is going to hold out your spare arm, and I am going to start severing the limbs from it."

"Oh God … I don't know what it is you want, but please … don't do that."

"Then you had better stop the whining Tobias, and start telling me what it is_ I_ want to know."

Nodding his head emphatically Tobias waited for the question.

"Where can I find my brother?"

"There's another one of you freaks?" Tobias' wide eyes darted from one face to another, his head shaking when he saw the blue clad one turn to his violent partner "Oh God …"

"Break his wrist Raph. I want a clear line."

"No …" Toby jerked his arm away, shoving his free arm behind his battered torso, "Oh God no … no please …." The red one got a hold of his arm at the elbow and dug his thumb in, wrestling the limb free he wrapped his hands around the area and applied a little strident pressure. "NOAOW!" Releasing it he stepped away from the man, and the sword wielding turtle stepped up to the mark, sobbing in pain Tobias' knees cut out, dragging his trapped hand free from its pinned place on the tree.

"Leo …" the 'child's' voice was quiet, and low, "I don't think he knows. Maybe we should give him another chance."

Leo paused, his raised blade lowering to dig the sharpened tip into the soft earth. Squatting down he met the shocked eyes of Toby. Listening to his words Tobias shuddered, he had been mistaken, this freak's voice hadn't been devoid of emotion before, it had been calculated. Now it spoke with a quiet hiss, his words measured and cruel, "One more. You say you don't know my brother, fair enough. We don't tend to advertise ourselves. So …" Leo broke off to run his eyes up and down his sword "Where can I find Hun?"

"Hun? Hun! God that guy's been over at … at HQ for the past thre- …"

The green foot that crashed into his face came out of no where, and though Tobias would be upset to learn it broke his nose, it gave him welcome relief from his decimated hands. Watching the human crumple into the floor Leo sheathed his sword, "Let's go."

_**x-x-x-x**_

The printer whirred spewing out its contents one page at a time. All the time Saki watched his son chew on his thumb whilst he studied the view from the office window. It wasn't as good as the one in his own room, this pane of glass was directly opposite the blank canvas of another office block. The building next to Saki Industries was a black glass affair, that blocked all of the sunlight from the room, and was partially responsible for the cold atmosphere in the room.

"I … I don't understand Father." For the past five minutes the only sound had been that of the printer, now though the child spoke up. "Why … why am I dreaming about them?"

Collecting another sheet of paper from the printer his father spoke very softly. "I believe it is called post traumatic stress disorder. They found you once, and took you from me. Naturally you did not want to go, so they beat you, and they dragged you away to an old store." His son moved his arms to around his middle, hugging himself as he turned back to put his father under a closer scrutiny. "They … er … realised that you were better than them. Sane, clever, if it was not for how you appear then you could integrate into the real world. These truths were something they were incapable of handling so they decided that if they could not be happy, if they could not have an easy life, no one should."

"They set the building on fire?"

Nodding his head, his father's expression became more pained, "With you inside. When you tried to leave, they attacked you. I was fortunate, I had the resources to track you down, it was a very unpleasant, painful experience to go through. I can only presume that these nightmares were first the echo of the event, and as you came to terms with that, the event itself has began to surface."

Slowly the boy nodded his head. "But … why, why would I forget it? It's such a huge part of my life. I don't understand."

"When we go through an event as traumatic and violent as that the mind has to find ways to cope. A common method is to bury the moment, to pretend it never happened, and to continue as normal. As if there is nothing wrong. But then, as the body begins to adapt to the circumstances it finds itself in the memory may wish to learn why the individual is … uneasy about certain things."

"Is this why you are reluctant to let me outside?" the child bit on his lip, "Because I don't recall ever going out there. And I want to, more than anything in the world."

"They rendered you unconscious so that you could not call for help when they took you last. There is no memory to recall of being out in the real world, because you were incapacitated at all moments you were out there."

"Oh." Again he paused. "That explains a lot." Stopping again he licked his lips, chewing onto his lip and holding it there. "Do you think they are still looking for me?"

Saki paused for a moment, "Of that I am sure My Son." The man turned his attention back to the printer, switching the device off he packed the reams of papers into a yellow cardboard folder. Closing it down around the company reports on the 'experiments' he walked over and handed the object to his child.

Fingering the cardboard, he held the item at arms length, "Do you think they will find me again?" his voice quivered with fear.

His father shook his head from side to side in a slow, regal fashion. "No. They will not take you from me again My Son. I will not allow it, of that you have my word." Extending his arms, he drew his son into a warm embrace, pulling him close he rocked him about on the balls of his feet, before depositing a small kiss onto his forehead. "You are _my_ child. My heir and my _world_. Without you I am _nothing_. Do you understand me? I live to make_ you_ happy, to cater to your _every _whim, as a good father should. And, as your father I will never allow _any_ harm to come to you."

Within the sanctuary of his father's arms the child smiled, resting his head against the good man's shoulder he closed his eyes. "So I'm not going crazy?"

"No Son. I think you are just laying those demons to rest. It would have to occur at some point in your life, and it appears that now is the time to slay them."

"Good." Chuckling he released himself from his Father's hold and took his hand in his own once more. Giving it a reassuring squeeze he looked back towards the door, "I should go and look at those accounts now shouldn't I?"

"If that is what you want."

The boy paused, "Not really. But you do everything in your power to make me happy, so I should at least return the favour."

"You truly are your father's son."

"Why, thank you Father." Feeling relieved and happy he returned to his room, a small bounce in his step. He wasn't going crazy, he could say goodbye to the trauma in his past, his nightmares were going to stop, the accounts wouldn't take too long and his harmonica was only a chore away. Yes, life at this moment in time was looking good. Very, very good indeed.

**_x-x-x-x_**

_megan _- Nope, that is pacphys' influence. I wanted to give him a piano at first ... till the obvious was pointed out. Stupid three fingers ... I was always on the guitar or viola as a child .  
_red turtle_ - Do you need some help there? If I floored you so far ... makes me wonder what's going to drop now ...  
_In-The-Clouds -_ Patience, some questions will be answered in time ...  
_Mickis -_ What is Saki thinking? The difference between a great leader, and an average one is ones ablity of forethought ...

To _Sassy_, _Reinbeauchaser_, _Ramica_, _shannon_, _pacphys_, _Fallen Hikari_ and _LN_ -**_ huge thanks_** for the reviews ... keep up with the program, I hope you like where it goes ...


	6. Chapter 6

**_A.N; _**Rightio, I'm back from the Easter revision marathon ... what a waste of time that was and I now bring my final and I mean it this time disclaimer. I don't know nutin' 'bout NY geography. Please bear this in mind in later chapters, and most notably in the mysteriously appearing beach that is now in NY state. Thanx!

**_x-x-x-x_**

_**Chapter 6**_

"Son?" the voice was gentle, yet persistent, cutting into the dark shroud that clouded his tired mind. "So-on?" rolling onto his side the curious child let out a small groan before batting away the arm that shook his shoulder. "Come now, My Son. That is no way to act …" the patience with which the man spoke crept into his dreams once again and reluctantly the boy rolled onto his side. Opening his eyes he stared at his father, his tired eyes widening in surprise to see the human dressed in denim cords, and a slate grey sweatshirt.

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"What happened to your clothes?"

The older man dismissed his child's curiosity with a chuckle, standing up he pulled something from his back pocket, "I have for you three options." He began very quietly, in his firm grasp were three envelopes, "In light of the fact that your eighteenth is very nearly upon us, I am willing to grant you one of these three things." Waving the envelopes at him the man spaced them out over his fingers, a small smile playing on his lips.

Pushing himself up in his bed the younger of the two studied the three packages carefully. Grey, post-office brown or business-circular white. Disconnecting the pads from his skull he lay them in his lap before twisting his face up into a small smile. "That one!" having snatched the white envelope he slowly opened it, his brown eyes scanning the page from left to right whilst his face broke into an ecstatic grin. "You mean it?"

Taking the card from his Son's grasp he scanned the neatly printed message. "I do."

"We're really going _out_?" Beneath the covers he manipulated his mass around. "Into the _real_ world?" Sitting on his knees he studied his father's eyes. "To a real beach?" His head tilted to one side, positive emotions running through him "Can I go swimming?"

By now Saki was more than a little amused by his child's excited outbursts. Taking a deep breath he kept his expression stoic, though his eyes held a small spark of light. Manipulating his own weight around on the bed his upper, casually dressed, torso faced his son. Tilting his head down slightly he looked his child in the eye, his brow raised expectedly at what he would say next.

"_Now_?" still his father said nothing to him, his expression growing steadily more and more stoic, the corners of his mouth twitching every few seconds. "_Today_!" The struggle for control over the corners of his mouth lost a huge smile broke out over the human's face. "**_DAD_**!" With a squeal of joy the turtle launched himself at the sitting man, his arms wrapping around the Saki's neck whilst his weight and momentum carried him into the soft, king size mattress. "I will _never_ complain about the accounts _ever_ again!" Scrambling out of the covers he released his father from his strangle hold hug, though landing on the ground with a thud he brushed himself off with a bright smile, "You are the best!"

"So you approve of my choice of apparel?" Saki asked, his amusement at the youth, and measured observations not quite matching the mood he portrayed.

"For a day trip?" the boy didn't notice the strange way he was being watched, "It's the best. Much better than a stuffy suit." Collecting up his harmonica he paused by the doors of his walk in wardrobe, "It suits you, you should wear it more often." He added pulling the doors open and entering, after a few seconds he re-emerged with no extra tools for his trip. "Father?" his tone had quietened and his cheeks deepened from their moss green shade to a more olive tone. He was embarrassed. Clutching the harmonica in both of his hands his eyes lowered, "Wha …" pausing he licked his lips, "I …" he bit on his lip and finally looked up to see his father's patient understanding. "I don't know what to take."

"Oh My Son …" tutting, the older man stood and came over to the storage facility. Putting one arm over his shoulder he guided the boy into the closet. "Mr Bass is collecting up towels and food for our trip. I shall have to do 'business' during the drive to and from the coast line. So all you need to do is collect up some things to amuse yourself with during the drive, and take anything you feel you would like to play with either in the vehicle, or on the beach." Stopping by an American football he plucked it off it's stand, "For example we could punt on the beach. Or …" he pointed to a tucked away plastic envelope …

"That's new!"

"It is." The child truly was observant, "It's a kite, there should be some wind speed today. You could experiment with that."

Reaching up, the boy pulled it down, "I'll take it! But I need something to do in the car." Pausing he added after a second, and with a pout, "Other than the accounts."

"I have taxes."

The child rolled his eyes, and continued to scan his shelves, "I suppose I could always read." Though his dislike for the exercise was evident as he spoke.

"Well, perhaps we can come up with some ideas over breakfast?"

Turning from the shelves the boy stared at his father incredulously. "You're going to let me off my floor? What about the other employees?"

"It's only eight in the morning, Son. The workers will be arriving at nine today, giving us plenty of opportunity to eat, pack and escape."

"We don't have to eat in the office do we?" Sucking his cheeks in he gave his father another dirty look.

"No, that is a place for work, and today is all about pleasure. I was thinking we could eat together in the boardroom. It is a much warmer room, with its own TV. You can watch the Discovery Channel whilst I go over the stocks and shares, and make the final arrangements for the investor's conference call."

"So I have to be quiet in the car?" he checked, "No music on the radio."

"I can't help the time zone Tokyo is in. I promise to keep the call as succinct as possible."

"Okay …" exhaling through his lips he asked coyly "Can I watch the Comedy Channel instead? Frasier is on."

**_x-x-x-x_**

"This sucks ass!" letting out a frustrated growl Mike rolled over from his front to his back. Situated on the roof of the nearby Alaban Corps. building the three brothers had taken it in turns to watch Saki. Inc. over the course of the night. The shifts had been long, and cold, with little to do except stare over the raised lip of a building willing someone, or perhaps more importantly, something to come out.

Now, however, the sun was rising, the three cold, tired and generally ticked off brothers were getting ready to retreat. The Alaban building gave them the advantage of being able to watch over the main entrance of the building frequented by many of Oroku Saki's legal employees. Not only that but with the aid of binoculars they could also spy the side entrance that many high ranking gang members and Foot soldiers utilised. With the sun slowly climbing up over the business district the three remained close to the shadows, their eyes glued to the buzzing people that began to gather around the front of the building, patiently waiting to be let in so they could start the day's trading.

"How much longa we gonna sit out here?"

"Until we see Hun."

"An' then what?"

"And then we go and have a little chat!" turning from his vantage point Leo glared at Raphael. (_Whether you like it or not.)_ His silent order as plain as the sunlight that was starting to reflect off the dark glass windows of the office blocks around them.

"Right! If yo'think I'm gettin' my shell kicked fer so'e half baked, closed cocked, thought up on the spot plan yo'got another thin' comin' …"

_(3, 2, 1 …)_ Sensing the impending argument Mikey detached himself from the small group and went back to watching the building. The main doors were being opened up by some lackey of Hun's, no big deal there, and the people on the street were swarming in small packs of two or three. Folding his forearms up on the slate grey lip, Mikey rested his head against his limbs, his ears expertly tuning out the smart comments and scant accusations that were being hurled around callously behind him. The sun's continuing skywards climb caught another player in its reflecting rays. The movement of the dark blue SUV would have gone un-noticed if it hadn't been for the large, hulking black mass that had walked purposefully from the side entrance. Weighed down with a large maroon ice-box, and what looked like a portable barbeque Mikey wasn't sure whether to raise the alarm or continue to watch in morbid fascination. (_Since when had Hun been known to take holidays?)_

"Guys … I got a visual on …" having watched Hun pack away the utensils, he saw the man open the rear passenger door, and having given a cursory glance around, the large man raised one hand and made a beckoning gesture. From the shadows the side door afforded him a sleight, green figure darted forth, sliding himself into the recesses of the vehicle in a 'blink and miss it' moment. "Donny?"

Frowning he turned back to his now crowding, no longer arguing brothers, three sets of eyes watching in surprise to see the third of three very strange bedfellows appear. Out of his silver skin and without the purple material it was easy for the three brothers to mistake the identity of the tall, lean Asian man that strode confidently out of the side entrance. In fact it took them a few moments to realise that they were indeed looking at the face of their greatest enemy. In one hand he held a single black briefcase, a small cell phone held to his ear whilst he spoke rapidly in fluent Japanese, his casual attire offset by his commanding pose. Taking up residence in the front seat of the jeep he paused only momentarily in his conversation to glance up at the roof of the Alaban building. Smiling broadly the three brothers watched as the man raised one hand to his temple and gave a cordial, almost hidden salute.

Disappearing within his car, the man turned to his driver. "Mr Bass, inform the security at the Alaban complex that they have intruders."

From his place in the back seat the small boy glanced up from the stocks and shares part in the newspaper. "Is something wrong Father?" he whispered quietly, more than aware of the desired silence he was supposed to abide by.

"No, not at all. Just a little corporate competition. Alaban can handle their own problems." Offering his son a small smile, he returned to his conversation with his Japanese investors.

"So now what?" with his arms folded Raph cast a side ways glance at his 'fearless' brother. "Gonna freeze time an' play follow the leader!"

"Raphael." Leo own arms remained folded as he watched the SUV drive off. They didn't have the BattleShell with them, so they couldn't go into a straight pursuit, and with the Shredder standing there and making it blatantly clear that he knew of their position … "Shut up."

"We're waitin' fer orders …"

"Tactical retreat." Leo finally grumbled, "Casey or April will have to keep an eye on the place for now." Having made one mistake already in battle, he had no intentions of walking into another potential trap. "We'll come back later, get Don then."

**_x-x-x-x_**

Father had been correct, out in the open expanse of nature, miles away from the nearest high rise and car infested street was truly phenomenal. Climbing out of the car the young boy stood on the lip of the wide golden beach, his toes digging into the foreign, gravely, substance experimentally. The drive had taken almost three and a half hours, most of which the boy had spent absorbed in a puzzle book, now the publication that he held tenuously in one hand slipped out of his grasp to crumple down onto the tufts of grass that sprouted through the sandy ground.

Dumbstruck, the boy's eyes widened in awe. A gentle breeze started at the rich opal expanse on the horizon and it carried the scent of fresh sea air to his face. Every direction he looked he could see nothing but open, undulating land, the air filled with the sounds of birds and in the distance, if he concentrated he could make out the muted waves crashing as they moved in and out with the tide. Above his head the sky was clear, with not even a hint of a cloud. Looking down he could make out the brown-black stone of a cliff face towering up over a number of growing and dropping sand dunes. Licking his lips he squinted as he attempted to make out how far the beach stretched into the distant. It was huge! Far larger than anything he had imagined when they had been weaving through the rock strewn roads with their pale grey rock faces.

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding?" The boy turned to his bemused Father and merely allowed the crescent shaped grin to explode over his face. "I _love_ it!" Slowly he ventured onto the uneven earth, his feet sinking into the warm grains. "It's perfect!"

"Excellent. Boundaries; you are not to go any where to the west of the car. And to the east, you can go no further than the cliffs." Reaching into his briefcase he pulled out a black, walkie-talkie. Handing it to his slightly confused child he produced the other one and tucked it onto his belt. "Now you may go and explore without a chaperone. I can trust you to behave yourself, can't I?"

"Uh-huh!" Gripping the toy tightly, he waited to be formally released from his Father's care. "Dinner will be at two, the towels and toys shall be here. When I radio to say we are eating, or leaving, you are to come back post-haste. Is that fair?"

The boy shifted from one foot to the other, his actions antsy and desperate to go. Nodding his head emphatically he looked longingly towards the ebbing and waning tide, "You may go."

And with that the young turtle was off, his legs carrying him quickly towards the ocean.

**_x-x-x-x_**

His child had not responded to the call for lunch.

"Like I said Boss, the turtle was playin' us." Hun spat meditatively, "Let me go get 'im and end this stupid little charade."

"Be quiet." Saki responded coolly, his expression, cold and irked, "Acquiring, and keeping that turtle holds long term benefits that I don't expect you to see." Flicking on the walkie-talkie once again the man voice warmed up, "It is time for lunch my boy."

From over the radio static began to creep out, moments later a breathless voice croaked, "Coming Father …" closely followed by the silhouette of a drenched, happy child cresting a dune in the distance. Sliding down the other side with long, loping strides the child dragged himself up the soft beach one panting step at a time before collapsing theatrically down onto the floor. In the shade of the vehicle he grabbed a hot dog from the barbeque and grinned at his carer. "I climbed all the way up the cliffs … and I really want to show you something out there. Say you'll come see it."

_**x-x-x-x**_

The two men had been tricked. Standing at the base of the cliff they watched, one with a morbid wonder for what splatted turtle would resemble, the other curious as to what could be so amazing about the top of an enclosed cliff face with a small swell. Especially when his child had insisted that they remain at the base of the cliff, to better capture such a sight.

Reaching the tip, the sleight boy carefully placed his walkie-talkie down before lining himself up on the very lip of the stone face. His eyes remained pointed downwards whilst he carefully counted the rise and fall of the water. This exercise had taken him almost all morning to perfect, but finally he felt ready to share his acrobatic flare. Slowly the water pounded into the unforgiving, stone face, the white spray flooding the air above the surface, and making the surrounding rocks a treacherous place to climb, or indeed stand. And then, whilst the spray would settle down, the water would pull back, leaving a serene blue-green surface that churned in soft, hypnotic circles. And it was this moment that the child had been waiting for, taking a small half step back, he launched himself from the side of the cliff, his body remaining, remarkably straight whilst he dropped. The water was just beginning to swell upwards as the boy hit the surface with a dignified splash.

For a few seconds the youth was completely out of sight, before his ecstatic, happy face broke the surface of the water with a triumphant cry. Striking the surface of the water with powerful, easy, strokes the boy battled his way out from the treacherous pull of the water and into the open sea. Taking a deep breath he began to make his way in shore, slowly allowing the water to push him inwards, and towards the disapproving look on his father's face. Scrambling free from the tide he caught his father's disappointed look and turned away.

"You could have been hurt."

"I was fine, I …" he paused and the tell-tale sign of guilt came and went in a darkening of his cheeks.

"You have been perfecting that all morning?" Saki paused, before giving a small sigh, "Son, there are some things in this world that are just as dangerous, if not more so, than a group of ill-informed, mob-minded, people. Finding new ways of endangering yourself is neither smart nor brave."

"Does that mean we're going home?" a tiny, apologetic voice queried.

Saki paused, "No, it means I am going to teach you how to wield your kite."

Relieved, the boy smiled.

**_x-x-x-x_**

The sand stuck stubbornly to his skin. Sighing he perched dutifully on the lip of the SUV, his hands busying themselves with dusting away the itchy granules. Letting out a frustrated groan he pushed his body further up the lip on the vehicle. "It's not coming off!" he whined loudly. "Mr Bass, do you have anything I can use?"

Hun glanced up from his task of packing away the kite, abandoning one fruitless task he went to the cooler and pulled out a bottle of water. "Try this kid!" Tossing it at the boy he watched him catch it with little thought or focus. Pressing his lips into a firm line he returned to his task, in his mind it didn't matter what the boss said, you couldn't teach an old enemy new tricks.

**_x-x-x-x_**

A smattering of applause greeted the boy's hard work, catching his father's eye in the rear view mirror he smiled at him. Outside the car's darkened windows the road zipped by, occasionally interspersed by another car or truck stop. Even without the protective black glass the boy knew that dusk was slowly creeping out to swallow up another day. A day that he didn't want to end.

"Father?" for now the harmonica lay in his lap, the small overhead light in the car switched off by the youth whilst he gave up on his tireless efforts to master the instrument. Leaning back in his seat he watched another brightly coloured service station zip by.

"Yes Son?"

"That's not going to happen very often, is it?"

"Day's out?"

The boy nodded, his hands idly tossing the metal instrument from one palm to the other. His eyes focused on his father's reflection in the window, though he pretended to not notice the concerned look on the older man's face.

"I'm a very busy man. And taking day trips to the coast would ultimately effect the amount of time I could spend with you in evenings and at other intervals."

"Okay …"

"How about I give you access to the building after hours?" At his place behind the wheel Hun's eyes darted from the road to his boss. With one eyebrow raised he silently questioned his superior's wisdom.

Ignoring Hun's silent protest, Saki turned around in his seat, "Would you like that? I can have a swimming pool tucked away somewhere with a high rise board, and you could perfect your diving. And you could have access to the roof just before bed time"

His suggestions were greeted with small, non-committed sighs. "Can't we ever go back to the beach?"

"Not at this moment in time." Saki replied firmly. "There are certain things that need to be taken care of at work."

"Then I suppose it'll have to do." He muttered, slinking down in his chair. "But what about my bed time?"

"What of it?"

"Everyone goes home at 6.30, and I have to take my medication at eight. That is hardly any time to do anything."

"Well, perhaps that can be amended." Was all Saki whispered, his attention returning to the road ahead of him. "Would that satisfy you Son?"

"We'll be able to go back sometime though?"

"Of course"

"Then I guess it will be fine."

**_x-x-x-x_**

**_kikiyophoenix19 -_** I actually modelled Saki's personality on theoh so charming Lionel Luthor from Smallville. And I also have to admit that I _REALLY_ like writing the guy. He's so much fun to do. I know we are meant to love a turtle, but I'm falling this guy.  
**_Lunar Ninja_** - Actually, Saki reversed the ages. He said Mikey was the oldest and thus sociopathic and Leo was the second youngest and meglomanic. Interestingly picked this up on a forum someone somewhere put forward a theory on the ages that worked like this. Don was the eldest, then Raph, then Leo then Mike. I quite like that concept.  
**_Ryan Phelan_** - Hey! Better late than never, welcome to the tale ...and I am gonna take that MJ comment as a compliment. Creepy man that he is!  
_**Mickis / Ramica**_ - _(puts fingers on her lips)_ Shhhh! Reading of the author's mind is only permitted between the hours of 2 and 3 on a Friday afternoon ...  
**_Gemdrive_** - (puts on a loop) Update 'Will the Real Leonardo please stand up?' PLEASE! And you don't think Saki has screwed everything up already!

Huge thanks to _reinbeauchaser_ tried sacrificing on the FF altar yet, _pacphys_, _Sassy_, _In The Clouds_and_Fallen Hikari_ for stopping by!


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7**_

The navy blue jeep pulled up in the side alley at precisely seven minutes past the hour. Creeping through the shaded alleyway it drew to a halt by the small metal fire door that had been used in the early hours that morning. The first to exit the vehicle was a stately six foot and moved with a grace that didn't quite belie his stature. With a single key he opened the door to what the next to exit the vehicle now considered an unfair prison. With low spirits and bowed head the boy crept through the terrifying darkness and entered into the sanctuary the false lights afforded him. The third in the vehicle drove it onwards, taking it around the side of the building and into the underground car park staff could use during office hours.

Clutching his Father's hand the young turtle carried his toys and trinkets up to his room, the tension that racked through him only evaporating when he was surrounded by the things that had become an everyday part of his life. But despite this, the boy did not smile when Frasier made his usual dry remarks, nor did he chuckle when Daphne's ridiculous brother and his preposterous 'mockney' accent stole screen time from the stars of the show. Sighing his fingers tapped repeatedly off the side of the leather sofa he curled himself on.

The sound of the room doors opening caused the boy to raise his head, and he dredged up a small smile for his Father. It wasn't the man's fault that he now hunkered for another day out. But it just felt sucky that he had to wait forever for another chance. Turning his attention back to the television screen he rested his head down on the crook of his arm, his mind idly wondering why he could see the screen upright despite the fact his head was resting on a ninety degree angle. Sensing his child's poor mood Saki did not stay long. Walking over to a child he suspected of sulking he placed the brown cardboard folder down onto the low coffee table.

"Accounts, Son."

_(More?)_ From his place the turtle let out a small sigh, before reaching over and picking up the folder. Hadn't he done this once today? Turning the television down to mute he flicked the folder open, his eyes scanning over the single sheet of paper and its reams of numeric code.

"Dad!"

Leaning against the terracotta coloured walls Saki waited patiently for the inevitable. Tossing the door to his room open, the boy found his father waiting just outside. Clutching the internal security codes in his three fingered hand his face exploded into a second bright smile. "Thank you."

Smiling in response, Saki nodded his head before walking back towards his office, "I shall be staying behind late tonight. Mr Bass and I have some business matters to discuss."

"So no exploring upstairs?"

"Precisely"

_**x-x-x-x**_

It had taken some time to come up with a plan that would please all parties, but finally Leo felt ready to take his brothers and make his move. They had observed once again the return of their enemy, his lackey and their brother, and this time had caught the side door they had used, using a small piece of tape to stop it from shutting fully. With rain clouds rolling across the sky, the three brothers crept into the building, their plan simple.

_(Find Donatello, free him, and bring him home. Oh! And don't get caught.)_

That last bit had been added by Mikey, and though it went without saying, it made him feel important. So Leo had let it stay. Three pairs of eyes looked at each other warily,

"Ready?"

"As we're ever gonna be."

"Okay, then …"

And with that the three of them slipped into the building.

_**x-x-x-x**_

The boy wandered around the building one floor at a time, for the most part there were reams upon reams of computers, each one surrounded by falsely constructed, easily moveable beige rent-a-walls. Upon first discovering the computers the boy had considered switching one on and playing with it. Except the keys were too small for his thick, stubby fingers, and other than programs full of spreadsheets, word processor documents and databases there was little to hold his attention. Unless he was a writer, which he most certainly was not. No, computers were not for him, they were too rigid, and frustrating, almost as uninspiring as the accounts his father made him do.

Slipping out of the room he flipped the light switch back up and headed down to the next level. Stepping out of the lift the breath caught in his throat. Venturing forwards he leant against the top of the brass metal pole that ran along the top of the white wall. The bar bent at seventy-five degrees about five metres from the buildings walls at either side. Turning on the lights the area flooded with light, the brass bar capturing it and carrying it down upon a curved path. Shooting out to either side, before zooming down in two crescent arcs towards the open auditorium space. Behind him was the glass lift shaft, with its frosted door covers. And beneath the mezzanine was the largest mahogany desk he had ever spied, upon which was one computer and two telephones, one with a screen and sheaf of paper sticking out the top, the other, despite a thorough examination, turned out to be an ordinary phone.

The rich red carpet extended down the staircase he had padded down seconds earlier to come to a halt at the white marble stone tiles that covered the foyer area. Keeping a firm grip on his harmonica he continued on his detailed exploration of the reception area. His feet moved soundlessly over the sleek, white surface, his reflection giving some tiles a green tinge. Pausing before the large mahogany double doors, he peeked out into the dark entrance hall, the metal shutters that covered the outer doors giving the area a creepy feel. Feeling a shudder go up his spine he turned back around and let out a small "Whoop!"

_**x-x-x-x**_

"This the generator Raph?"

Lurking in the basement the biggest turtle poured over a collective schematics manual. Why his brothers decided that just because he spending time as Casey's grease monkey made him a fully qualified techie was beyond him. Frowning he looked at the large skeletal metal structures before letting out a low sigh. "As good a place as any."

_**x-x-x-x**_

Just as he had suspected the acoustics in the lobby were phenomenal. Carefully tucking his harmonica away the boy ran back up towards the high wooden desk. **_…_** **_Pat, pat, pat …_** his feet slapped the stone firmly as he charged onwards. Planting both hands on the raised surface he powered himself up and into a neat sitting position his legs clunking off the wooden support. Letting out a congratury chuckle to himself he unwrapped his beloved instrument and began to tune it up.

_**x-x-x-x**_

"Okay … here goes." Using the pliers Leo carefully cut the wires that Raphael assured him would cut the power. Or leave him crispy fried. He wasn't quite sure, which was why Leo had decided to take responsibility for any _possible_ additional accidents. Wincing Leo bit down on his lip, Mikey crossed his fingers for him, whilst Raph went for the far more sensible 'duck and cover approach' **_…clip…_**

_**x-x-x-x**_

_E-flat, e-flat _the boy's eyes scanned over the instruction page carefully committing to memory the sequence. Bringing the small metal box to his mouth he pressed his lips around the edge of the instrument, inhaled once … when the lights cut out.

_**x-x-x-x**_

"Leo?"

"Yes Mikey?"

"Yo'al'aight?"

"Yes Raph."

"Wow. Go me. "

"Go Raph … go Raph …" Mikey's little, irritating song had been mused during the trip up from the basement. The three brothers moved with the grace and confidence their father had instilled in them from birth, their eyes, and their weapons, ready for anything.

"Go …" Mikey's abrupt halt caused his two brothers to collide in his shadow. Turning back he pointed to the source of his attention, "Talk about a break …"

_**x-x-x-x**_

The boy's eyes widened when the room plunged into darkness. Lowering his harmonica he placed it down upon the smooth wooden surface, before his hands slowly located the lip of the desktop. (_It's just a power cut, they happen all the time)_ Inhaling in slow steady breaths he gave it no thought before replying to the quiet hiss,

"Don!"

"Whose there?" knitting his brow together he peered into the darkness. The grip he had on the desk tightening.

"Donny! C'mon, we're over here."

"Whose there?" the turtle's voice rose a few decibels, "Come out into the moon light." Through the slats of the outer door, orange light flooded in. (_Moonlight isn't orange…) _Sliding down off the desk he edged away from the piece. In the back of his throat bile rose, swallowing it down, his head jerked around rapidly, taking a deep breath he tried to maintain an air of calm.

"Don, we aint got time fer games! C'mon!"

Wrapping his arms around his middle he tried to calm his voice, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me whose there." In the back of his mind half destroyed memories filtered into his mind, images of shaded figures that crept out of the dark to hurt and maim others. Flexing his fingers he clenched, then unclenched his fists.

"Okay." Shrugging at his brothers Mikey darted through the shadows towards the mis-matched light. Slowing to a walk, he stepped out of the safety the dark afforded him and stood there. "Whatsup Don?" With one arm behind his back, and a definitive slouch, he waved at his older brother, a slightly bemused expression on his face.

The voice sounded eerily child-like. And was the final of three. Three, distinct, determined voices. (_Oh God)_ They had come back for him, just like Father had said. Confirming his worst fears the 'eldest' stepped into the poor light. "Why, why did you cut the power?" he finally managed to whisper to his forgotten brother.

Mikey glanced back to his waiting brothers. "So we could getcha all the quicker!" Normally his cutesy ways would get a laugh, or at least a smile out of his brother, instead his eyes just seemed to bulge. If there was light, he would have swore he saw him go a lighter shade of puce.

"Oh God …"

_**x-x-x-x**_

"Hun!"

"Yes Boss?"

"Get the back up generator online now!"

_**x-x-x-x**_

"Dammit!"

In exactly the same manner that the lights had gone crashing down they now came zipping back up again, albeit at a distinctly softer glow. In the dusky light the three brothers could clearly see Donatello's features contort from horror to fear and then to an interesting mix of horrified fear. Taking in laboured breath after laboured breath his chest and shoulders heaved, wide brown eyes making note of the two others that lurked near the service corridor.

They all appeared so distinctly different, the sociopath having broken from the group to linger in the door way. He could identify that one by his mannerisms; the other two were harder to tell apart. Though the fact they both carried offensive weapons did nothing to ease his nightmarish fears.

"Back up generator." the one in the blue mask dead panned to his taller counterpart in red. "Well done Raph, I nearly fried myself for nothing." The marginally shorter turtle punched the largest in his arm. "We can't wait any longer Don. Come on …" walking past the one adorned in red the jarringly calm one approached him. Extending one hand he wriggled his fingers expectantly. "Whatever Shredder's done, it's alright we'll figure something out. It's over now."

_(Shredder?)_ If it wasn't for the sheer terror that ran through his veins at the mere thought of leaving with them he might have showed confusion at the term. (_Stall)_ "Er … my harmonica!" glancing round he pointed to the small metal box. "I … I can't leave without my harmonica."

"But Don yo'do…" Raph shut up at the death glare that Leo sent him.

"Sure, that's fine. Mikey."

_(Telephone the police?)_ How he managed to turn his back on them he would never know. (_No, they wouldn't make it in time.)_ Moving slowly he stared at the tiled floor whilst his mind continued to go through the myriad of options. Reaching up, he numbly picked up his harmonica. It was the flashing of the small LED that caught his attention, eyes narrowed and his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth. Sub-consciously he flexed his fingers before making his move.

"Don!" Leo didn't move fast enough to stop his brother from striking the red, flashing panic button.

Turning back round sharply his eyes grew to truly astronomical proportions, the one in blue instinctively drew his two swords, whilst the other pulled out his three pronged knifes.

"What the **_HELL_** did yo'do that fer!" the one in red positively screamed at him.

Backing along the workstation Don made his way towards the curving staircase. "I've called on site security … and they're going to be here any minute!" he yelped in response. "So just go away …"

"**Oh, we aint goin' anywhere w'out yo'!"**

"**whilst you still can …"**

_**x-x-x-x**_

In his office Oroku Saki continued to rapidly change his clothes. The slate grey sweater he had worn to the beach that day was pulled on over the metal breast plate, whilst Hun continued to pull off the arm gauntlets. Doing up his belt Oroku looked to his second in command for a final verdict.

"Yo' look r'spectable Boss."

"Good. Now get the soldiers out there, no masks or visible weapons." Slipping on his first shoe he didn't look at Hun, though he added crisply, "Go and retrieve my Son Mr Bass."

_**x-x-x-x**_

The soft **_…ting… _**of the elevator brought an end to the game of cat and mouse between Donatello and Raphael. Ever since his challenge the largest of the three had moved with a speed and grace that didn't match his size. Terrified the other turtle had continued to climb up the stairs, his harmonica held tightly in one hand. Now, though, they both paused, relief pouring through Don as Mr Bass and a handful of his men appeared. The men moved quickly, finding and releasing their counterparts from the locker rooms. Filling the staircase Hun stood in exactly the same place as Don had earlier.

Placing his large hands down onto the bar the behemoth leant over the top to smile down on his three uninvited visitors. "What a lovely surprise!" he articulated carefully, "Talk about a blessing in disguise." Turning his attention from the brothers he extended one hand to the lurking Don. "Kid, get up here."

…_**ting…**_

From behind the three row deep line of Foot Oroku Saki emerged. Dressed once again in the simple grey sweater and blue cords from earlier in the day he moved regally to stand at Hun's side. Behind his jaded brown eyes a spark burned, the smile that played upon his lips turning into a triumphant smirk as Don joined him at the top of the stairs. Sliding one arm around the boy's shell he observed the looks of horror and disgust that crossed his enemy's faces.

"Go upstairs, my Son." He instructed softly, "I'll deal with our guests."

"Father!" Don cried nestling his head against Saki's chest, "Please, let security throw them out." He continued pulling at the back of his father's trousers in a vain attempt to get his father's attention.

"I have a feeling that everything will be fine." His eyes never left the three turtles, his voice somehow managing to strike a balance between the warmth needed to calm his terrified son, and the menace necessary to hold back Don's brothers "Now, when have I ever lied to you?"

Giving Don a final reassuring smile, he ushered him into Hun's care and the heights of his tower like fortress. From within the sanctuary of the elevator the boy watched his father walk the length of the mezzanine with his usual measured step. Observed him respond to his desperate, muted pleas to stay away from them with a mouthed 'Everything is fine', and then, in slow motion, the man turned his back on him to offer a sickeningly sweet smile to his guests. "Well …" wrapping one hand firmly around the banister of the staircase, he took the time to make his position perfectly clear. Power. He had it, and he lorded it over the remaining brothers with practiced ease. "Where ever should I begin?"

"The beginning."

"Hm, what a novel idea. Well, I have decided to acquire an heir. Someone to continue the family traditions when I am gone."

Having been the first to speak Leonardo continued to watch the man coldly. Resheathing his swords he idly considered how much damage they could do to the man before the Foot got in the way. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to discount the theory.

"Cute. Now why don' yo'give us what we came fer."

"Raph," Leo interjected firmly, his wary eyes breaking from Shredder for the barest moment to ensure his brother understood him. "Let me handle this."

Saki's head bowed, "A wise decision."

It was with much disgust that he met the human's eyes stare for stare. "Really? It's not like you to hold back when the odds are in your favour."

"Perhaps I am tired of fighting?" though delivered straight Saki could not keep up the pretence, and the light that lit his eyes resonated in the soft chuckle that tainted his next words. "Perhaps it is time we called a truce." Though there was no tear in his eye, he wiped his scarred cheek with the tip of his left thumb. Leaving the relative sanctuary of the staircase he approached Leonardo, basking in the tiny amount of fear that crept through his façade. "There is a saying, 'if you cannot beat them, join them.' Since I am aware you would never _willingly_ join me I thought it necessary to gain leverage."

Raphael expected Saki to step aside. To perhaps counter his opportunist attack with a wave of soldiers. Give him a chance to release some of the frustration that was burning up inside him. Instead the human stopped in his mocking speech to retrieve the sai. Bending down he even went so far as to lower his eyes to study the weapon that had seconds earlier struck his concealed breastplate above his heart. Picking it up he held it in the palm of his hand, weighing it up slowly. Bringing his eyes up he let out a low sigh. "Actions like this will not be tolerated."

Shredder's overly gentle approach sent shivers up the spine of the turtles. Slipping his weapons away Mikey decided to close the gap between his brothers and himself. He didn't like the way that Don acted around Shred-head but maybe there was something that he knew that they simply didn't. Coming up to Leo's left flank he made up the final point of the loose triangle the brothers made. Glancing across at Raph he tried to silently placate him. To his brother's credit, he didn't hurl his other sai at the man's bowed head; instead he grasped it so tightly that his knuckles continued to whiten.

"I have decided it is time that we joined forces."

Though Raphael snorted with derision at the sheer gall of his nemesis, Leo indicated he continue with a small gesture of his hand. "And if we decline?" For the most part he had descended into a stoic silence, any emotion he had previously displayed vanishing behind a determined, calculating armour.

"Well, I'd hate to see anything happen to my son. But he is so curious about the outside world and I am just a business man. An accident at the beach, a … stray bullet in the park, there is only so much I can do to protect him." At this point Leonardo looked away, a classic sign of a challenger bending to his superior. He was, on some level, sub-consciously admitting defeat.

"If yo'think we're gonna roll over an'play dead yo' …"

"Shut up Raph!" the eldest brother hissed.

"Donny aint stupid Leo. Sooner or later he'll figure a way out."

"Except it isn't Don anymore is it?" Two narrowed eyes had risen once again to meet Saki's endless pools. The human smiled at this revelation, he knew there had been a reason why he had approached this one first.

"Oh I'm sure on some level he still recognises you. But I'm his father, and you're the enemy. If you think it is an act, or merely a matter of time before the worm turns Raphael then you are sadly mistaken. The boy is mine."

"And if you're going to kill him we have no need to continue this conversation."

"No, but his continued well being lies in your hands. Interfere in my affairs, or those of my 'sister' companies and I have a distinct feeling that something truly horrible will befall the child. Assist me, look the other way, I'm not particularly adverse as to which you choose and the boy will continue as he believes he always has. A life of luxury, limited freedoms, treats. It is not such a bad life, and it is the only one he knows. Currently you're living breathing nightmares, in time you'll be Freudian messages until one day you'll be nothing more than figments of an over active imagination."

"If yo'really think Don's buying what yo'selling yo'got less sense than Mikey."

"Except he has already forgotten you, and everything you ever stood for. Give it time and it will be as if you never existed." Having laid down his terms Saki walked away from the small troupe, pausing at the foot of the stairs he turned back to add, "An heir, one less turtle, both prospects please me." Smirking with glee he began to climb the steps, "You have until tomorrow night to mull over the options. Return this time tomorrow and we shall have contracts prepared. Failure to show shall be taken as a refusal, and the status quo shall be." Tossing Raphael's sai back down onto the reception floor he continued "minus one brother, of course."

With a growl Raphael charged at the man's turned back, Leonardo grabbing a hold of his nearest arm whilst Mikey leapt into his brother's path. "Chill!" he whimpered, finally breaking his silence. Placing both of his hands on his brother's shoulders he pushed backwards, causing the largest of the four to halt half a metre from where he had started his charge. Breaking free from the two of them with an angry shrug Raph glared up at Saki, his face twisting with the rage that burnt inside him. "Beta sleep wit' one eye op'n …" he murmured softly, "Cos I'm gonna fuck yo'up s'bad yo'mommas gon - …"

"He trusts me Raphael. I could give him poison tonight with his dinner and he would accept it, because I am his father, and he is _my_ Son. Now, I bid you goodnight, and if you feel cheated out of an opportunity to test your skills I have no qualms with you picking fights with my enemies." Walking to the lift doors he called for the elevator, "Good night" he called, entering the sanctuary of the cabin, leaving turtles and Foot in his wake.

* * *

**_A.N -_** Ahhh ... the joys of only living five minutes from the beach. Can you tell it is one of my favourite places ? BTW sorry for the delayed update, I have an exam on June 9 th! AGGGGGGGGHH!

**_Rene -_** Woot! likes you again, I'm so glad! And thanks for the tip, will definitely utilise it for later chapters.  
**_pacphys -_** Puts her hand up! I've just done it with Mikey as the oldest! Points to chapter five ...  
**_Mickis -_** Truth be told I'M not sure anymore ... at this moment in time I have two endings for this story ... and they couldn't be more different if I tried.  
_**Lioness Goddess -**_ Okay, Donnie has been kidnapped by Saki. Saki has altered his memories so that he has forgotten his family, and believes Shredder to be his father. Consequentially he loves him. Don doesn't remember any thing of his previous life, bar a few floating memories.And now ... he has met his brothers for the 'first time'. Didn't really go to plan now, did it?  
_**kikyophoenix19 -**_ You said it. I love the Luthors, and I love writing for Saki. I don't think I can say that too many times!

Thanks to _LN_,_ Ramica_, _shannon_, _In-The-Clouds_ and _Sassy_ for R&R-ing. I hope y'all like where its going ...


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8**_

"I had a shot Leo an' I took it." Angry. No, that would be an understatement, Raph wasn't angry at the turn of events, he was positively enraged. Storming up the sewer tunnel he paused to only hurl his fist into the red brick wall.

"And I don't have a problem with that Raph!" Leo yelled at his retreating back. "But I do have a problem with you endangering _all _of us in the lion's den."

"Well, whose idea was that!"

"It was a collective if I'm not mistaken!"

His fist pounded the moss covered wall once again, letting out frustrated growl after frustrated growl he waited to be joined by his brothers. "So, Splinter Junior, what the Hell do we do now?"

* * *

"Father!" Much to Hun's chagrin Don had taken to pacing up and down the length of his room. Which wouldn't have been so bad, except he had (quite vocally) gone through every possible scenario that could unfold downstairs. And as they had become increasingly more violent and desperate Hun had began to wish he was down in the fictional ruckus. Hearing the door click at the end of the room brought two sets of eyes to that end of the room, and much to Hun's relief, a changing of the guard.

"My Son!" Saki echoed loudly, accepting Don's hug.

"Are they gone?"

"They are." The man whispered into the boys shoulder, his son's muffled voice continued to chirp questions from the folds of his sweater.

"What did you do? … Did they try to hurt you? … Are they going to come back? …"

"Woah … one thing at a time." Saki continued in good spirits, "I merely made them an offer they could not refuse."

"Really?" Don's head tilted up from where it had previously rested.

"Really, really." Saki promised, carefully disengaging himself from the youth's embrace.

* * *

"I see." There was no emotion, barely a reaction from the old rat. Just two succinct words that were barely audible above the sound of the kettle screaming to be switched off. Rising from his place at the kitchen table Splinter calmly began to pour out cup after cup of green tea.

The three brothers shared looks, "Er, so …"

"Well, for your brother's sake I would attend the meeting Oroku has arranged."

"But it'll be a trap!"

"I am quite aware of that possibility Raphael." Nursing a cup of tea in his hands the old man studied his remaining children. "But if it is not, are you prepared to condemn Donatello to his death?" When Raphael turned away from him Splinter continued, "It is 8.30, you are not expected for another 24 hours. Hopefully that will give us all adequate time to prepare."

* * *

Saki knew that look, that small frown that came when Don was turning something over in his mind. Pursing his lips he lay beneath the silk covers, his eyes narrowing as he turned something over again and again in his head. Uncoiling the wires that connected to the electro-magnetic disrupter (1) he waited for the inevitable question.

Don continued to stare out over the dark city skyline, "How did they know my name?" he murmured quietly. Taking up handfuls of material he pulled the silk bed covers in opposing directions. It was a nervous habit the boy had developed in Saki's care. Turning back to Oroku he queried him once again "Father, how could they possibly know my name?"

"Did they?" dismissing the question with a pout and small smile he leant towards his child.

It was the first time he actively denied his father his wish. Leaning away from the plastic pads he met his father's eye with an inquisitive glare. "They did. My name's Don."

"No, it is Donavan. There are any number of names that can be shortened to 'Don', Donnelly, Donagh, Donnan, Donat …" the man paused before continuing with a chuckle, "Donald."

"Donavan?" he rolled the name over his tongue, and the man relaxed. As the child let his guard down he reached in once again to attach the pads. Once again, the boy ducked out of the way. "Then why haven't you used it before?"

"Because I prefer using terms of endearment." Halting in his pursuit Saki dropped the pads into his lap and folded his arms across his chest. Adopting a pout and looking the other way he continued to mock-sulk until he felt his child's hand on his arm.

"Father …" he began quietly, lurking beneath the covers, "Father I'm sorry. I … It … I believe you." Continuing his game Saki tilted his head higher, giving it a regal shake he pulled away from the turtle. "I … I like the terms of endearment Father. I do! But … it would be nice to hear my name once in a while too."

His head didn't move from its position, sly eyes slid sideways to look at the silently pleading face searching for forgiveness. A half smile broke out over his visage, "Very well, from now on it shall be a first name basis all the way. Donavan."

* * *

"What is all this crap?" It wasn't like Mikey to swear, but the entire family had spent the past hour in the dark room and still couldn't make head or tail of half of its contents.

"Well … that is the toaster." Leo pointed to the stripped metal carcass on the work table, "And that is a …" staring at the pile of nuts and bolts a surprisingly blank expression descended. "pile of absolute …" lips pressed into a firm line whilst the eldest turtle desperately searched for the right phrases.

"Yo'aint got a frickin' clue have yo'?" Raphael called from his spot on the floor sorting through a pile of half completed battle 'things'.

Shrugging his shoulders Leo consented with a small grunt. He didn't have a clue what nearly three quarters of this stuff was, in fact as Mikey had quite rightly put it, it _was _crap. No one, with the exception of Don, had even the slightest clue what was going on in the room. Sure they could recognise half completed assignments, and broken toasters, and that was mainly because one of them had been responsible for the break in the first place. But when it came to sorting through it all and locating useful items for a possible assault, or counter assault on Saki Industries they were at a loss.

Letting out a long sigh Leo did something he hadn't done in a long time, he ran a hand over the back of his head. From his spot on the ground Raph exchanged a wary 'did you see that?' glance with Mikey. And from his spot at the door Mikey responded with a slightly surprised raised eye ridge. He had indeed seen _that_. And between the two of them it took about thirty seconds to calculate that it had been a good two, possibly even three years since Leo had indeed admitted defeat. Even if it was on a totally sub-conscious level. Neither of them thought they would live to see the day their brother was finally out foxed by Shredder. And yet, there it had been, the classic 'I'm outta ideas' head rub.

* * *

He was beginning to doze; Saki knew this because the grip on his hand was weakening as the seconds ticked by. At the far end of the room Frasier played on the large widescreen television, and the canned laughter was beginning to irritate him. The turtle's head rested on his chest, having secured one are around his shoulders, the other gripped the spare limb that hung off the side of the bed.

**("****Frasier****: to Lilith, his ex-wife My God, woman, I'd drive a stake through your heart, but I don't think anything could kill you.")**

"Do' g'…" Don muttered, nestling deeper into the small crook between the man's armpit and pillow.

"You should be asleep by now …" he whispered in response. Feeling the tentative grasp on his hand tighten the man fell silent. "Nothing is going to get you." Well, nothing tonight.

* * *

They looked at the mess, then at each other, then back at the assorted piles of metal and machinery. Letting out a long breath Casey spoke first,

"I can tell yo'what it aint. It aint car parts. If _any_ o'that came outta car then I'm a hula girl."

Having cleared his conscience the man stepped aside, inviting April to give Don's world a once over.

Putting her hand up April summed up in a similar manner to Case, "Bio-chemistry guys. Physics, totally different world." Grimacing she picked up a battered note book containing Don's shorthand, "But we'll give it a shot."

Flicking it open to the first page, they began their search anew.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9**_

Life felt good. Don leant against the metal rail of the balconette, his harmonica expertly balanced against the flat of his left palm. His right hand cupped the back of the instrument, and gave additional support to his left hand. He had found that by moving his cupped right hand in and out whilst exhaling or inhaling through the metal holes gave a crisp clear note. IE the desired effect. What was more by drawing the air in through the side of his mouth he was able to alter the notes and begin to string together sufficient notes to make out simple songs.

In the distance the sun was setting, casting purple hues across a clear sky. The only break in the hues came from the other office buildings that filled the sky. Not that it bothered him; having been out into the 'real' world and experienced it the city looked ugly and claustrophobic. He could understand why his Father had shielded it from him. It was a cruel place, and in a few short days he would have a pool to practice his diving in. Closing his eyes he pretended he was on the lip of the cliff once again and as such missed the arrival of a once familiar khaki hummer in the street below.

* * *

Hun didn't like this one bit, in fact he hated it. Why they couldn't just kill the lot of them when they returned that night was beyond him.

"_Because there is more than one way to skin a cat" Shredder had spat at him when he had dared to question such logic earlier that day. "I want them to live with the knowledge that they failed."_

The fact that he could still move all of his limbs was due to the presence of the fourth turtle. He had come in search of his father around lunch time. And now Hun stood by the main entrance with a ready smile, and harsh smirk to 'meet and greet' the three turtles that now trudged up the steps.

* * *

"What exactly are we going to do?" Mikey asked quietly. His head hung low, and despite the fact he carried not only his regular 'chucks but his ass-whoopers did little to quell his fears.

"Stall." Leo replied firmly, his hands clenching at the sight of Hun. Just standing there waiting for them. "Be ready for anything." Waiting out side the door he looked at Raphael in the reflected surface, "And don't start WW3. We've not been up there before."

With a metallic clunk the door before them opened and the three were ushered in by an irritated Hun.

"This way …" he growled.

* * *

The silhouette of the vehicle caught his eye. Squatting behind the metal bars he tried to make out what sort of car would park in the shade of the Alaban building at eight in the evening. Pulling a small face Don glanced at the small alarm clock he had brought out with him. _8.26_ And no Father to send him to bed, shrugging he returned to basking in the cool night air, no doubt he would be along soon.

* * *

"Stop testing my patience!"

In his right hand Leo held the white sheet of paper; in his other he held the pen. To his right Raphael stood, his hands resting against the hilt of his sai, to his left Mikey fidgeted endlessly from foot to foot. "You've won." He stated coldly "So what's wrong with checking the fine print?"

Blood ran from the light cut on Raphael's arm and onto the white page. Upon reaching the large board room Hun had attempted to disarm him and his brothers. Having contained his steadily building temper for hours the short ruckus that had broken out had been swift and brutal.

"_Learn to control your soldiers …" that had stung Leo. And the mocking tone in which Saki chose to deliver such a line turned his stomach. Now the only way he could think of stirring similar err was to go over the contract time and again._

"And doesn't it feel wonderful?" For such a momentous occasion Saki had chosen to indulge his darker side. The purple satin of his robes lay beneath the metal breast plate and protective gauntlets. The only thing he lacked was the head piece. Interlacing his fingers he leant back in the large leather chair at the tip of the mahogany table. Two patient eyes watched Leonardo place the sheet of paper down onto the lip of the table at his end, observed the boy raise narrowed eyes that promised a thousand deaths to meet his eternal voids, and then with a minute slump of the shoulders sign his life away …

* * *

Where was he? Kelsey Grammer was in the process of singing the theme tune over the end credits and still his Father hadn't made an appearance. The night air wasn't refreshing him anymore, instead it sent icy chill after icy chill up his spine. With a final sigh he drew the glass door to the balconette closed, and went in search of the man …

Mikey followed his brother's lead and took his time in mulling over the document. Every now and then he would pause and quietly ask Leo what a certain word, or phrase meant. With ever decreasing patience Shredder interrupted to sum up the entire document in five heartless words; "It guarantees your brother's survival." he snarled.

"Oh!" playing the baby card didn't work out here. The longer he held onto his bottom lip with a tiny amount of tooth showing, the longer that became apparent. "Guess I should just …" waving the pen in the air he added his name onto the bottom of the contract.

_**

* * *

…**__**ting…**_… 

The lift at the end of the floor buzzed into life. From his place at the boardroom door Hun straightened up. Cracking each one of his impressive knuckles he patiently waited to see who would interrupt the meeting.

The doors took forever to open up. Almost as long as it had taken to track his Father down. Clutching his harmonica in one hand, Don exited the small glass compartment and stepped onto the soft grey cashmere carpet of the business suite.

"Hey Mr B!" waving cordially to the lingering behemoth he began to saunter up the corridor. "Is dad busy?"

"Sure is Kid." Blocking the path of the inquisitive turtle with one large arm he waited for the next line of inquiry.

"Really?" As expected his brow creased up in confusion. "It's after eight thirty, who does business _now_!"

"Pesky Japanese investor types." There, that would shut the brat up.

Hun's knowing smile was wiped clean off his face with the boy's next remark. "No they're not. It's …" his eyes instinctively turned up as he calculated the time difference, "nine thirty on a Sunday morning in Tokyo right now." He pushed past the barricade, "And if it is I should be there. Father wants me to listen in on how to deal with investors."

"Kid …" Hun's attempted grab missed. Fingertips brushed over the lip of smooth shell and warm flesh, his hand closing around nothing. Withdrawing from the large glass doors he made ready to block the boy's exit.

_**

* * *

Raphael flat out refused. It was that simple. Leo and Mike could sell out if they wanted to. But sooner or later, Donny was going to be coming home. He just didn't know it yet.**_

"Bite me …" he growled at the Asian man. He knew this wasn't just about him. He knew there was the 'bigger' picture to be considered. He was well aware that he was endangering Don's well being by refusing to sign. But three out of four wasn't that bad. Shredder should be pleased with what he could damn well get.

"Just sign it Raph!" Leo hissed, his hands clasping around the loops on his belt.

"Yea Raphie …" Mikey added softly, "For Donny."

Usually Mikey's babyish charm would soothe this side of Raph's formidable temper. But not today. This was more about pride, _this _was for Donny. If it were him he'd rather be dead than Shredder's stooge. "Not a chance in Hell …"

"Very well." Standing Saki stretched his spine out very slowly, the dull **…_tink…_** of metal plate on metal plate echoing through the eerily still room. "Kill the - "

_**

* * *

"Fat- …"**_

The glass doors swung open on silent hinges, and though he spoke when his Father did he didn't miss the man's words. Nor was his father's choice of 'business partner' lost on him.

"_I merely made them an offer they could not refuse."_

The words from the night before echoed in the back of his mind, Don's easy going expression transformed into one of mortification.

"Son …" from his end of the table Saki tried to reach the boy.

"_I merely made them an offer they could not refuse."_

"Y- …" his brother's recognised the stutter, it came when Don was scared. Shit scared as Raph had once poetically put it. "You …" he took a half step backwards, "You were going to _trade me_!" he finally yelped.

"Son, no …" Saki could see his plan unravelling before his very eyes. "I am paying them to g- …"

It was too late, the damage was done. Turning on his heel Don ran from the room, the first obstacle in his path was Mr Bass, the large imposing man turned slowly on his spot, his legs spreading wide and his arms extending to grab him around his middle. It came to him in the same manner than a new born takes its first breath, innately and without question his legs bent to give him the extra lift necessary to launch him self into the tight tuck necessary to get through the closing space between moving arm and wall. It wasn't smooth, it wasn't easy, and his shoulder left a dent in the plaster boarded wall but he was still free. Scrambling over the floor he didn't think about what he had done, and instead raced onwards towards the closed elevator doors.

"DON!"

Mikey took up pursuit, with one foot pressing against the tip of the table he launched himself free from the lingering Foot that had made up their escort. Slamming one into the door frame he yanked free a chuck to deal with Hun.

What was taking the elevator so long? The lighting over head cast a long shadow along Mr Bass's huge form. In the corner of his eye he could see the black silhouette sidling up and over his form, from somewhere a second shadow joined the first, a large stick extended to stretch over his head.

"Come on …" one finger jammed onto the gold plated button again and again. "Please come!" he whimpered at the lit metal circle.

Behind him Mr Bass and its additional shadow were grappling, pressing him self into the small dent that was afforded by the closed elevator doors the boy turned himself around. And there they were. The large doors of the board room were wedged closed. They had to be, in the chaos that was unfolding before his eyes the three other turtles continued to grapple with Mr Bass whilst the gloved hands of his Father's security slammed against the transparent and still holding barrier.

…_**ting…**_

The doors slid open behind him, and in his haste to enter the boy spiralled round on the balls of his feet. Cascading into the elevator and skidding across the sleek marble floor his wide eyes watched three forgotten brothers crash into the sliding doors, screaming his name.

"Mike, the lift. Raph …" why Leonardo ever bothered trying to give his brother instruction he didn't know. Already one step a head Raphael threw open the fire exit door and took to the stairs.

Slamming it behind him, Leo shook his head. It had been Raph to react to Don's surprise appearance next, taking up one chair and hurling it at the lurking soldiers by the door. Barrelling them over it had been up to Leo to deal with the possible incursion from the board room. A stray piece of chair leg had sealed the door. For now. And that just left Hun, who with irritating predictability, was not staying down. Already Mikey's usually bottle green complexion was beginning to show up the purple hand marks from where he had charged into Hun head on. Thank God he was a fast little critter otherwise Leo could well be fighting for two brothers right now.

Shaking his head to clear it the man-mountain climbed back onto his feet. Above his left temple a purple abrasion was clearly visible, as was the stream of blood that was beginning to run down over his eyebrow and into his eye. Smirking cruelly Hun rolled his shoulders, "'Bout time …" he croaked, before going on the offensive in another deceptively fast charge.

"My sentiments exactly…"


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10**_

The elevator shafts changed between the private quarters and the workers levels. Until tonight Don had never wondered why. Now his mind was slipping into over drive. Why had his Father made a deal with those things? Why was he dressed like one of the demons that haunted his nightmares? And why, oh why, did those things insist on hunting him?

Sprinting across the open landing he ducked into the nearby hall way. (_Lockdown)_ That would give him some extra time. Doubling back he passed by the closed entrance to the fire escape to enter the small work area that served as a security station. Pulling the door to with his foot he began to boot up the computer system, his ears straining for the merest of sounds.

_**x-x-x-x**_

Due to the reflection Mikey sidestepped the tripped mass that made up a hurtling Hun. Looking up to his brother he cheerfully quipped, "Lift's here."

"Good." Stepping into the small cubicle Leo slid his swords away. It would be so easy to just slide one, or even both of his blades into the black satin back of the currently unconscious Hun … shaking his head to clear the thought he gave Mike a small smile.

"Gotta love Lady Gravity eh?" Mike continued, completely oblivious to the blatantly obvious.

"We're on the 17th floor, in a glass cube Little Brother." Was all Leo said before striking the 'door close' button.

"Oh …" Suppressing a smile Leo wasn't surprised to see Mikey struggle for a few seconds longer. "Don't worry about it … Ol' Tin-Skin aint gonna run with shoddy merchandise."

It was at that point the lift lurched to a halt.

_**x-x-x-x**_

**(Lockdown Initiated)**

The green letters flashed onto the small black monitor. And along with them the service lights of the floor, and every other shut off. Next both elevator shafts shut down. Outside metal shutters slammed down over the main entrance as well as the car pool door. Over every work floor metal grate doors began to slowly descend, cutting off all potential to hide in the office stations. And to top it off similar metal grates, much like the doors that slid down over mall entrances at night, began their snail's pace descent, securing each and every sector on the upper levels.

In five short minutes the only way in or out would be via the fire escape, and service corridor. And with Cerberus Inc. closed for the evening there would be no freedom for those trapped until the following morning. A weight lifted from his shoulders and Don let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He was safe …

_**x-x-x-x**_

The sudden stop knocked the two brothers from their feet. Crashing side ways Leo very nearly bowled Mikey over. Turning his head slowly he stared at his brother in the dimming light before dead panning "Really?"

"You know this smacks of Don dontcha?" Mikey offered in his best philosophical over tones. Shrugging he approached the cab door. They had barely moved an inch which probably meant getting out would be much easier. "Itsa good thing he's being all Don-ny right?"

"When we haven't plunged to our deaths, and we catch up with him, I'll be sure to check."

"Sword me." Whether or not Mikey registered the discomfort in his brother's voice wasn't clear. Never the less he got to work on breaking them out of the small space. Working on the rubber seal with the tip of one katana he added after a few moments, "Pacing isn't going to help."

"Well it's helping _me_."

That was something new. In front of the boardroom door a thick metal plate had appeared. Leo stared at it in a state of surprise, whilst Mikey took it in his stride. As normal.

"Look at it this way" Mikey was saying "If Shreds on _that_ side and we're on _this_ side its gonna make getting outta here much easier." Tossing an arm over Leo's shoulder he directed him towards the fire escape.

"I suppose that is one way to look at it."

"One?" Mikey shook his head before taking off down the stairs that Raph had pounded down earlier. "Dude it's the _only_."

_**x-x-x-x**_

"Donny!"

What the Hell was going on? Raphael wasn't sure if having an entire building plunge into a black out was a good thing or not. In the same manner that the elevator shafts changed on the 14th floor so did the fire escapes. Sliding out onto the floor his eyes strained in the darkness. "C'mon …" he muttered to himself, "Come out, come out where eva yo'are."

Don's hand tightened around the harmonica he still clutched in his hand. In the reflective glare from the monitor screen he could just make out the inscription on the back of the instrument. Lifting his feet off the floor he observed the silent footsteps of Raphael. The barely visible light carefully picked up the silhouette of two feet in the narrow slat beneath the door. (_Keep moving)_ he willed his brother, (_Just keep moving)_

It was difficult to make out which way the door was supposed to open. Having reached it Raph passed it by before pressing his shell into the wall. So far, so good. No additional Foot, no Elite and no invisible Tech Ninjas. If he could just find Don he would be on target for a job well done. In his left hand he drew a sai, with his right he reached towards the door handle. Wrapping his fingers around the smooth sphere he twisted the knob slowly, pleased to hear it click open. (_So this is where yo'at)_ he smiled to himself.

For a moment Don believed he had got away with it. Then the **_…click…_** of the door cut through the still atmosphere. With his body perched against the lip of the Pottery Barn wooden desk his eyes, and feet came to rest on the large chair security normally situated them selves in. Reaching out slowly the balls of his feet pressed against the base of the seat, his eyes raising to the now opening door. From Raphael's point of view his brother appeared to be waiting for him, sitting patiently on the desk, the thin terrified smile that was plastered across his face taken as an invitation to come on in.

"There yo'are. Dammit Donny …" the sai he held in his spare hand remained drawn, "Lets getcha outta here 'fore the welcomin' committee gets its braids an' bangs out."

Don could feel his lower lip quivering, nodding his head he continued to calculate in his head. Tensing his leg muscles he shoved the chair forward with all the force he could muster, the collision between sibling and furniture proving to be far more successful than even he expected.

The back of the seat hit Raph full in the chest, whilst one of the wheeled legs ran over the top of his foot. Taking in a deep breath he wasn't able to release the string of curses that stood on the tip of his tongue. With first contact initiated Don chose that moment to continue his improvised attack. Leaping from his seat he grabbed a hold of the arms of the chair and drove it further back, knocking his brother clean off his feet. Darting up and over the mass of writhing torso, pinned legs and flailing arms, he was forced to his knees by Raph's sharp blow to the back of one leg. Kicking him self free, Raph approached his brother, "I don't care what Shreds bloody well done, but if yo'pull another stunt like that I swear I'm …"

He didn't know where it came from. For that matter neither did Raph though he should at least have expected it. In his hand Don felt the cold weight of his harmonica, rolling around on the carpet he struggled up and onto his knees. Looking up at the furious turtle he gasped, "Don't hurt me …"

"Jeez Don, I aint gonna hurtcha." Shaking his head Raph took a moment to come down from straight out pissed to gently boiling.

"Good…" he responded mutely, his teeth biting down onto his lower lip. It was a tell. Something the Don of old always did before he tried a stunt. Straightening up his back his eyes didn't leave Raph's almost calm face. Extending his spare hand he waited to be helped up, feeling his brother's palm slide into his, he tugged downwards, dropping his knees, he used the second Raphael was distracted correcting his centre of gravity to bring his other hand up in a full round house weighted right hook. Harmonica, fist and eye collided with an almighty thud that left both attacker and attacked stunned.

"FxxK!" falling back onto the carpeted floor Raph clutched his left eye. Rolling on the floor he didn't think twice about the hollow threat, "I'm gonna kill yo'fer this Donny!"

For a second he felt like apologising for lashing out so. Violence, or rather violence like that, simply wasn't in his nature. Hearing Raphael's screech he changed his mind. Breaking free Don raced towards the fire escape leading to the lower floors.

_**x-x-x-x**_

He held the cream of New York's criminal underworld in the palm of his hand and yet there was absolutely nothing Oroku Saki could do. He was trapped in the boardroom of his own fortress with half a dozen Foot. His CCTV was down, and in a matter of seconds he knew the building would go into full lockdown.

"Try again." He ordered the soldiers coldly; around the metal door the sheets of pane glass lay shattered. Using the metal prongs from his own gauntlet the men struggled to force the metal door upwards. _Sealed with an electromagnet._

One of the men looked up and gave his Sensei a fearful shrug. Grinding a piece of glass beneath his heel Saki merely snapped "Again!"

_**x-x-x-x**_

Crashing out of the service door entrance freedom didn't feel as sweet, or as victorious as he felt it should. His heart thudded against his chest, and the angry screams of the one he had hit haunted his ears. Doubling over he gasped again and again, licking his lips he closed his eyes.

"Donny?"

Instinctively the muscles in his body tensed. When was this ordeal going to end? Half expecting another one of the green turtles to confront him he thought he would faint at the sight of the curious man. (_Jason Voochries)_. The man towered over him, in the poor light he estimated he was even taller than his Father. By a good two or three inches A stream of curly, dark, hair hung to his shoulder, his body a shrine to a punishing work out that had rewarded him with bulging, carefully cultivated biceps. The white vest he wore was stained with dirt, and quite possibly blood, whilst his blue jeans appeared crisp with dust. The army boots he wore were scuffed. And finally, there was a white hockey mask shielding his face, which left him with an expressionless plastic void to interact with. Add to that the hollow metal baseball bat that he held loosely in one hand and it was easy to see where his initial impression came from.

"An' here I was hopin' for a lil outside action. Guess you guys really cleared up in there."

Having finally made it into the 'real world' Don didn't want to be there any longer. Taking a small step away from Casey he decided to retreat into the safety of his Father's tower. Sure, he had just spent five minutes on a mad dash for his very life, but there were plenty of places to hide within the tower. And with any luck _they _would be trapped by now.

"No! Yo'don't wanna be goin' back in there man!"

Pausing at the doorway he glanced back at 'Jason'. "Th – thanks. But …" in the alleyway he was surrounded by darkness. Stomach churning, nerve tingling dark.

"Dude! Seriously, yo'got rocks fer brains all of a sudden?"

Don's expression became quizzical, "N-no." His right fist was beginning to tingle and he flexed it slowly. "I …" the words dried up in his mouth. At the far end of the service corridor his eyes focused on flickering shadows. "Are you with them?" he whispered.

"Yo'bros?" It was Casey's turn to sound puzzled. "Yea … sorta …" Don began to back away from him. "No! Not really!" he paused and began to laugh, "I'm here cos yo'Father sent me!" Yea, that was it. That sounded plausible. He didn't really have a clue what was going on but when in Rome … "Friend o'Hun's." And yet Don continued to retreat from him. Taking a step closer, Casey continued to spin cotton "We gotta jet like … " Looking in through the open service entrance he made out the three lingering silhouettes of his brothers "now."

"No …" he murmured. Reaching out with one arm he pulled a nearby bin out into the space between human and turtle. "You're with them!"

Tossing his bat to one side Casey took the physical approach to restraining Donatello. Once again survivor's instinct came to the fore, when 'Jason's' arms wrapped around his middle he slammed both of his fists into the larger man's still moving back. Kicking his legs back and forth he felt the wind get knocked out of him as the two descended onto the hard ground, "Get off me!" stretching out he succeeded in getting a hold of something sleek and smooth. Pulling the shattered glass bottle free from the upset bin he waved it at Casey's exposed neck.

"Jesus, Mary an' Joseph Don!" Jerking backwards, Don slashed at his exposed chest. Backing up again Casey retreated away again, he wasn't entirely sure what to make of this. But there was a fire in his eyes that Casey could only put down to one emotion.

Fear.

Don was piss-shit scared of not only his brothers but him too. Putting his hands up be backed away from the boy, but he had a feeling the damage was done here too. "I'm backin' up see. Now, why don't you an' me go talk? I got this sweet lil place that those freaks aint ever gonna dream o'lookin'." Shrugging his shoulders he attempted friendly conversation once again. Sure things had looked a lil weird when they had hooked up a couple of seconds ago, but he hadn't bolted on sight. "Whaddya say?"

"You're with them." He repeated coldly, clutching the bottle he continued to back up towards the wire fence that separated Saki Industries from its neighbour. Putting a good metre between them both he glanced over his shoulder just the once. In doing so he gave Casey, and his now quietly appearing brothers' one final opportunity to capture him. Turning sharply, he hurled the glass bottle at the nearest moving target. Next he turned up the nearest bin he passed, closely followed by twisting out of Casey's determined grip with a swift kick to the chest area.

Pulling himself over the top of the wire fence he landed on the far side to stare into the eyes of his eldest brother. With his swords sheathed Leo studied his brother's face, he could clear the fence in half the time Donny had, and could no doubt wrestle him into the ground. But that wasn't the point, lingering in the door way Raphael nursed a damaged eye that wept tears of blood, and Casey was wheezing on the ground. Mikey's earlier altercation with Hun had left him with now very visible, very tender bruises that had definitely caused him to hold back just then. Just because he didn't want to hurt Donatello didn't mean that Donatello wouldn't intentionally hurt him. It would be wrong of him to put his brother in that sort of position.

Bringing his hands up he made a simple gesture of surrender, there was nothing more deadly than a cornered animal. And right now Donny was twice as dangerous as any armada of Elite. He simply wasn't aware of how incredibly powerful he was. Raph wasn't going to agree with him, but right now he had a responsibility to the family that could at least remember his name.

"Go …" he instructed softly. They would pick up his trail and find him later. "You win."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter 11**_

"Help me!" he was sore, and scared. Fear filtered through his raised voice as he stumbled blindly into empty, non-descript street after street. Over his shoulder he thought he heard footsteps, but when he looked he saw no one. Staggering into shadows and filth he huddled in the dark, eyes picking out phantoms and wraiths in the midnight surroundings. Sliding down the alley wall he drew his knees up to his plastron and let out a strangled sob. What was going on? Why just give up the chase like that?

Whimpering quietly to his dark surroundings, Don finally closed his eyes and began to pray for morning and the comforting warmth of daylight to come.

Lost … and alone.

In the chaos of the night before he had taken turn after turn in a desperate attempt to throw off the pursuit of the other turtles. During the hours of darkness he had dozed fitfully, jerking awake throughout the night-time. Sometimes from cold, sometimes from fear, but more often than not a nightmare would settle into the void before his closed eyelids, and insist on playing to its end. He hadn't slept well, if at all. In a vain attempt to stay warm he had continued to move through the terrifyingly dark alleyways. And now, much to his relief the first rays of a new day were finally beginning to stretch out over New York City.

The first thing that struck him was how little of New York he had actually been able to see from his bedroom window. The sprawling metropolis stretched in all directions. And like termites from a mound people began to appear from every nook and cranny at the earliest moments. Pathways of grey tarmac extended as far as he could see from his stolen peek around the corner of the red apartment building he was by.

His first impression of the inner city suburb he had stumbled into wasn't a good one. Each apartment block was the same, built up of red, rotten bricks, with miserable slate grey roofs. Filthy, streaked glass filled warped, peeling wooden frames. With the first vestiges of heat to wisp through the city thick metal doors began to creak open, whilst windows that had grown accustomed to being wedged in place were dragged skywards. For those windows that did not open lights flickered on, exaggerating the still lingering shadows that the boy hid away in. His instincts told him this was not a good place to be in, and before the first people really began to pay attention to their drab surroundings he moved soundlessly on.

_**x-x-x-x**_

CCTV footage from the night before gave Saki hope. With a keen eye he continued to make notes for the search party he would release into the city that day. Donatello had ran from him, that much was true, but more importantly he had also ran from his brothers.

"Rewind." He instructed Hun. He particularly liked this moment. Breaking off from the task at hand, he chuckled when Don savagely struck at Raphael's head.

_**x-x-x-x**_

He had managed to stumble across some shops, at this time in the morning the café's were busy turning on their ovens, and scents of freshly baking breads intermingled with brewing coffee beans. Salivating he crept closer towards an open service entrance, his intention simple. Breakfast. Putting his harmonica down onto the uneven alley floor he remained behind the city issued dumpster, keen eyes keeping watch over the delivery men carrying palate after palate of food from the van and into the kitchen.

The window of opportunity came and went in a matter of seconds. Darting out Don leapt into the back of the truck, his eyes scanned the white plastic palette trays. Recognising currant buns he pulled a packet free. Turning round he stopped dead.

"What the …" The look on the delivery boy's face mirrored Don's own surprise. Then, slowly the boy's mouth extended into a grimace before elongating into a scream of terror.

They were scared of him. Just like Father had said. "No! No … it's okay … here keep it." Talking only served to further freak the boy out. _(Get out)_. And now his cries were attracting others in the street …

_**x-x-x-x**_

As he had expected, Leonardo's decision did not sit well with his brothers. And such executive decisions had to be punished. Climbing out of bed Mike kept his eyes on the television and the spoon continued its path from bowl to mouth at regular intervals.

"Morning …"

Shunned. Shrugging his shoulders Leo went into the kitchen, taking down a bowl he waited for April and Casey to arrive. Mike's skin had a charming mottled effect to it, and he moved slower than he would normally. But he was moving, and could hold his own in an argument with Raph still so …

From the depths of the dojo yet another string of curses echoed forth. When it came to changing the dressing Raph could get rather shirty. Eating his own breakfast he kept his mouth shut, though the pirate look didn't help Raphael's cause. Leo wondered if his brother realised how lucky he had been last night. They had yet to 'talk', but as April had said the night before, a quarter inch to the right and Don could have easily taken his eye out.

"You'll be driving today." Someone had to break the stalemate, "Earth to Mike?"

"Huh?" the spoon paused in its path, "Get Raph to do it."

"Raph's not going out."

The spoon clattered into the bowl, twisting round Mikey grinned, "This, I gotta see."

Raphael's vision was temporarily impaired. The swelling from the blow had forced his eye shut. And coupled with the bruise was a thin red line. Mikey had commented the night previously that if you looked close enough one could make out the out line of the harmonica. So instead of being mildly irritated at the fallout from last night he was positively fuming, and not in the mood to be grounded.

Folding his arms he shook his head for the second time. "Forgettit."

"What exactly do you think you're going to achieve? Apart from wasting time"

"I can drive the damn truck."

"And then what? Get clocked again? Don is terrified of you Raph. All he is going to do if he sees you is bolt in the opposite direction."

"Then maybe I can scare him your way!"

"Or maybe you can scare him into a lane of traffic." Look, you're not coming, and that is final. Mikey, we have to go."

"Yea, an' I do't see yo'doin' any betta."

"Are you deliberately missing the point here or are you just trying to piss me off Raph? Manhandling Don down here is not going to convince him to trust us. Is it?" It was rare for Leo to let a bad night get to him like this. Sighing he finished softly, "We may not like it but right now he trusts Shredder …"

"Leo … for the doofus in back. I'm missing the point."

"Why not kill us or trap us? He's had the opportunity. Twice. Why take Don? Why not take you? Or Raph?" Giving lectures in the middle of the lair was not Leo's thing. It made him edgy, and didn't do him any favours in the long run. Collecting up a ream of tranquilisers and some nets he began to pack them into Don's saddle bag. Mikey cleared his throat quietly, in the corner the penny had finally dropped for Raph and his body language indicated he was going to relent. For his youngest brother's benefit he added, "Because if it was anyone else we could smash and grab and Don could solve the problem."

"Oh." Mikey pouted before giving a small shrug, "That's pretty smart."

_**x-x-x-x**_

Saki stood before his men. Line upon line of Foot, some dressed in black, others dressed in street clothes. Members of the Purple Dragons littered the area too, though they would be Hun's responsibility.

"Last night I lost something very important to me." He began coldly, "It is your responsibility to find it, and bring it home to me." Now this was the Boss that Hun knew and loved, standing to the right of the man's shadow he listened carefully. "We are in competition with those turtles, see one, kill it. But if any of you harm my Son I shall repay the favour." With a wave of his hand the soldiers began to collect up their nets and darts, saluted their leader and melt out into the dimly lit streets.

_**x-x-x-x**_

Cars were beginning to filter into the streets. Darting from the van Don almost collided with one in his attempt to flee. Rolling over the sky blue bonnet he landed on his the hard tarmac with a thud. Peering back over the rim of the door he stared into the eyes of a startled driver, "Sorry …" he gasped struggling back onto his feet. "I'm sorry!"

Why were they screaming at him? He didn't know them, they certainly didn't know him. _"…mob mentality is a dangerous thing."_ His Father's words echoed in the back of his head. Mob mentality, glancing backwards he saw the delivery boy, in his flour white suit, pointing in his direction, muttering and articulating in all different manners. The cooks and early morning customers listened to his terrified ramblings, before turning to look in his direction.

"Bloody Hell Thorne!"

"There …"

"Back off, let the cops gettit."

"No … no …" this wasn't good. Scooping up his harmonica he turned on his heel and just as he had the night before, started to run once again.

_**x-x-x-x**_

Casey met up with them in the street. Straddling his hog, he had kept a close eye on the number of Foot that had come out and merged into the surrounding streets. Then he checked the time. Even if Don wasn't pulling off his ninja tricks he was still 'needle in haystack' material. Climbing off the back of his chrome and black Harvey he crossed the street and climbed into the back of the green Hummer that pulled up.

At first Leo wished Raph could be present to see the change in Casey's appearance. It would … amuse, of that he was sure. Heck it was making him laugh. He looked positively smart in a pair of freshly pressed black combat trousers, a buttoned up denim shirt, and instead of his hockey bag he wore an almost sensible maroon and grey backpack.

"Get it over wit' …" Case mumbled, throwing both of his arms out. He had told April this morning when she had chosen his outfit that the guys would crucify him. And since that was clearly the case he may as well make out like the famous martyr.

"Get dressed in the dark this mornin'?" Mikey chuckled. "Yo' look almost normal."

"Yea, Ape thought it would be a goo- …"

"You let April dress you?" Following the tension in the lair having something to relieve it was exactly what Leo needed.

"She figured it would help the cause!" Case yelled back, his cheeks going red, "An' its not like I left my baubles at home." Swinging the bag off his back he unzipped the main compartment, revealing two dumbbell bars minus their weights. Shrugging he pulled the bag back onto his back commenting dryly at the strange look, "Couldn't get the bat in."

"Right …" Standing up Leo handed Casey a set of darts, and a net. "Don't use these unless you absolute have to."

Nodding his head Casey tucked away his additional toys "How much of a jump Donny got on us?"

"A good twelve hours." "What has Shredder been up to?"

"Sent the troops out 'bout thirty minutes back. Just goin' out in all directions

Dude's as clueless as we are."

"Good, if Master Splinter gets anything Raph is going to call. Otherwise we just go that way, and look for clues."

_**x-x-x-x**_

Father had been correct. Cowering in the shadows behind a second dumpster he heard the searching mob before he saw them. Pressing himself deeper into the darkness he saw the first of the men go by, and smiled. Moving onto his haunches he got ready to sneak off in the other direction, not intending to upset the stray cat secluding itself away beneath the green utility.

"There it is!" he heard a voice declare.

Closing his eyes Don suppressed the small cry. What had he done to deserve this? Gritting his teeth, he darted into the labyrinth of streets that made up New York, and straight into the sights of the recently tipped off Channel Six News helicopter.

_**x-x-x-x**_

"Hold still!" Dabbing the cloth into the small bowl of alcohol April set eyes of stone on Raphael.

Jerking away from the offensive cloth, Raph tilted his head, and good eye back towards the TV. "I want this thin' back in one piece."

"Then hold still!" April repeated. Pressing it onto the nicked cut, she waited for him to complain. Instead she followed his eye, and horrified expression, to the screen.

**("This is Rob Steiner for Channel Six News hot on the heels of an Exclusive. In the streets below we are currently observing what can only be described as a 'little green man' desperately attempting to evade capture. First sighting of the creature was made by 17 year old Todd Spenser at eight thirty three this morning in the back of his delivery van. Where it came from? We simply do not know. Where is it going? We're not sure, but the people here at Channel Six are going to stay on the case and relate the facts to you as they unfold …")**


	12. Chapter 12

**A.N:** As always, responses to reviews are sent via PM. In the event of multiple reviews (Jessie) I'll respond to all queries in one message. Having said that, HD Hard drive, meaning I have the story finished up on my computer. And the updates will be coming ... as long as my time is my own!

_**Chapter 12**_

It amused him. Hun had notified him of the unforeseen turn of events within seconds of it happening. And now, whilst he sat in his boardroom the large widescreen television showed Donatello's pitiful attempts at evasion to a terrified, yet enthralled New York populace.

Reaching over to his telephone he called up his men, "Where do you think that is?"

Studying the screen intently Hun finally growled "Looks like Queens territory."

"Queens? Very well, I want your best men down there immediately." To the man waiting on the telephone he instructed, "I want a squad in Brooklyn, and a squad in Queens." Hanging up Saki began to get dressed, "I shall go with you 'Mr Bass', and we shall retrieve my son."

_**x-x-x-x**_

The second he saw Don's terrified face on the screen was the second Raph knew he wasn't staying in any longer. And April knew it too. Dropping the cloth she stood and went to the telephone, picking it up she speed dialled the BattleShell.

"Yello …"

"Mikey, you're supposed to be driving."

"Nah, that's what Case is here for. Whatsup? Raph bailed on ya?"

"Nope. Is the radio on?"

"Nada."

"Tune it to ChannelFM."

Mikey complied, in the background a string of muttered curses came from the driver. Followed by the soft **_….click…_** indicating the phone had just gone to speaker.

"Where did you hear that?" Leo demanded.

"Two minutes ago on the news channel. They're streaming live."

"What's going on right now?"

_**x-x-x-x**_

Don studied the lay of the traffic, above his head a helicopter hovered, the camera pointed determinedly at the wooded area he had taken shelter in. Pushing through the trees he had come across the four lane deep road and now a crazy notion was running through his head.

He knew that the men from the café were still following him. And he had been able to calculate the ebb and flow of the tide when he had been at the beach. The speeding cars would be no different. He hoped.

His first foray into the traffic was the easiest, pausing the helicopter captured every second of his frantic dash for freedom. Now that he was a part of the road he couldn't distinguish between the slow movers, and the speeders. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet he darted out in front of a grey saloon. Running at a tight 45 degree angle his torso missed the oncoming car, though his shell clipped the wing mirror with sufficient force to spin him around. "Yagh!" Throwing both of his arms out to counterbalance his weight he climbed over the barrier between the first two lanes of traffic. Two lanes back his original pursuers watched in awe, the leader of the pack made a swiping motion at the green speck. The damn thing was on its own.

Standing on top of the curved metal barrier he used the additional height to best judge when to make his next move. In the distance he could make out a speeding pick up truck, bending his legs he waited for the open tray to come nearer. _(3…2…1…)_ closing his eyes he hurled his weight at the exposed back of the vehicle. With a bone shaking **_…thud… _**he landed squarely in the centre of the tray. Scrambling up he clutched the back of the cab as the driver swerved to dislodge his unwanted cargo. "Agh!" Luck saved him from an early grave … hurtled from his spot on the back of the pick up he landed on the far lane, with the driver still swerving into all areas of the road Don was able to crawl onto his hands and knees. Look the driver of the '98 green Volvo in the eyes and then dive out of its path and into the kerb. Scrambling to his feet he winced in pain before moving on.

He had some how managed to escape the mob, now all he had to was shake the Channel Six Eye In the Sky.

_**x-x-x-x**_

"Oh my GOD!" April turned her head back from the screen, "I'm going to pass you over to Splinter now. Raph and I are going to head into Brooklyn." At the mention of his name Raphael looked up from where he was hastily throwing odds and ends into Don's spare saddle bag.

"No yo'not."

"April, what happened!" There had been something about April's horrified cry that really didn't sit well with Leo.

"Don just crossed four lanes of mid-morning traffic." She made it sound so natural. So unnervingly normal that the three in the BattleShell could only share worried glances. Pulling the phone from her ear she addressed Raph. "Yes I am. How else do you think you're going to get out there?"

_**x-x-x-x**_

The navy blue SUV moved through the traffic, behind the wheel Hun clutched the steering wheel in a vice like grasp. "What you wantin' the men to do?" he rumbled in a voice laced with menace.

"Herd him back to me."

_**x-x-x-x**_

At first Don had not realised he had attracted company. Disappearing into yet another rabbit's warren of alleyways and hanging fire escapes the sleight turtle attempted to hide himself away from the world. At first he believed he was dreaming, as wraiths and ghosts started to swarm through the waning shadows. By the time the dumpster he aiming to hide behind went flipping out into the street Don realised his problems were far from over.

With the aid of Rob Steiner the Foot had been able to mobilise and close in on Don's tenuous location in Brooklyn. One by one they pulled on their masks and disappeared into the network of alleyways, systematically searching and clearing concrete tunnel after concrete tunnel until one man dressed in civilian clothes successfully spotted and identified the filthy, scared child. Radioing through the location the herding began, the desired pick up point to be somewhere by the Hudson River. It was to be a simple plan.

_**x-x-x-x**_

**(Currently we are flying over Queens, in hot pursuit of New York's own Little Green Man. Residents of Brooklyn are advised to stay indoors and not to enter into confrontation with our resident anomaly. Just minutes earlier we in the Eye In The Sky were able to witness first hand the phenomenal abilities of this creature.)**

"Tech Ninja's." Raph growled. Lying in the back of the beige hatchback he released Mikey's pocket TV from his iron-clad grasp. From the device the muted sounds of the helicopter engine and Steiner's excited voice continued to drone.

**(Another bin has been hurled into the oncoming traffic. It appears that our Little Green Man possesses some sort of telekinetic ability)**

"Donny must be scared outta 'is 'ead." Raph reflected, his "I swear I'm gonna gut so'eone fer this." He murmured into the blanket that covered his body.

In the front of the car April continued to negotiate traffic. "Well at least every one is getting out of the way." To her right the street continued to fill with people vacating the immediate area to the best of their abilities. Striking the indicator she drove the battered '89 Chevrolet through the intersection and continued her calm foray into Brooklyn.

_**x-x-x-x**_

Constructed in 1870 the Brooklyn Bridge stretched across the Hudson River connecting Manhattan and the place of its name. With its two red brick towers and miles of steel cables it was one of the oldest and easily recognised landmarks in the area. Hiding in the shadows beneath the bridge Saki waited. His men had already radioed in to let him know that his prize was in the process of being delivered. Smiling darkly, he gazed out across the shimmering, murky depths of the Hudson. In the distance smoke billowed from the triangular roofs of the numerous industrial warehouses. A dark smile came to pass on his face amongst the smoke, just on the horizon he could make out the roof top of the building that had sparked off this turn of events.

"Where is my Son?"

The radio crackled with static, before a gruff voice responded coldly, "Should be delivered in a matter of moments."

Dropping the small radio down onto the leather seats Saki's eyes returned to the dismal scenery. Soon, all would be as it should be, and that prospect made him smirk.

_**x-x-x-x**_

There was a sharp stabbing pain in his side. With his right hand wrapped around his middle Don continued to struggle for breath, his left arm remained extended before him, his finger tips running along the layers of grime that coated the walls of the warehouse. On the rooftops above him shadows continued to stretch, dark menacing humanoid shapes that reminded him of his darkest nightmares. And yet, despite the visible fact that he was exhausted they did little else other than dictate his next turn.

**(This is Rob Steiner with a Channel Six Exclusive. We would like to announce that due to the on going threat this creature poses we are being requested to come off the air so that the police may step in and do their job. We, here at Channel Six will continue to follow the story until ordered otherwise.)**

"Well that just fills you with joy doesn't it." Making conversation in the car had been almost impossible; her concealed companion had followed events on the small screen obsessively with his good eye. Grunting Raphael reached into the small saddle bag; pulling free his ShellCell he dialled his brothers in the BattleShell.

"Whassup?" Mikey again.

"Where yo'at?"

"Caught in traffic on the underside of the bridge. What's the visual like on Don?"

"So'ewhere near Brookie bridge." Raph's good eye peered through the crochet of the blanket rug, idly counting the number of shadows in the ceiling. "What's happened t'th'radio?"

"Cops got it pulled." Mikey replied simply, the soft **_…thump-thump-thump… _**of his fingers tapping off the side of the BattleShell being caught by the microphone of his cell. In the corner of his eye Mikey stared blankly at Leo's mouthed question, "Leo wants to know where yo'at. And I wanna know if I can trade him, he's being …"

Pulling the covers back he tilted his head up towards the streaming sunlight, grunting at the appropriate intervals whilst Mikey continued to tear strips off Leo's stressful behaviour. In the reflected glare of the glass he counted the cables that supported the Brooklyn bridge. "Brookie bridge."

"Hey cool! Maybe we can see you …"

"Mi –"the phone was pulled from his younger brother's grasp and Leo began to talk, "Keep an eye out for Don. We'll cover the lower area."

Rolling his eyes made him wince, "Sure thing bro." Taking the phone from his ear he snapped it shut, before his brother's frantic instructions drove _him_ to distraction.

Why had he ran? In the long hours, and harsh light of day, everything his Father had told him had turned out to be true. And now, when he wanted nothing more than to return to the sanctuary of his Father's tower he couldn't. Drawing in deep breaths Don focused on blocking the pain that radiated through his gut. His body wasn't used to such violent and uncompromising activity. Of that he was sure. What was more he hadn't eaten in over twelve hours and that had now left him feeling a little nauseous.

There was no getaway, in the sky above him hovered the Channel 6 helicopter, the silver globe beneath the cab flickering into life. The high power beam of light hit him in fully in the face. It was more effective than the sun, and he cowered from its powerful glare. Hiding from the intrusive cameras that streamed live the 'alien in New York' he sought another means of escape. Above the whirring of the helicopter's engine the harsh pierce of the police sirens echoed, and then in the distance, were the passers by who felt it their duty to stop, and "apprehend the freak."

Turning from the hovering helicopter Don pressed his back against the rim of the protective barrier. "Leave me alone!" he had attempted running from them, at one point he had even tried reasoning, and yet all they wanted to do was harm him. "I'VE NOT DONE ANYTHING!"

"Clear the area." The cars that ground to a halt in order to maintain their front row seats began to reluctantly drive on. The metallic voice originated above his head, and repeated its authoritarian request. "Clear the area." It was brutally impersonal. Across the back of the moving cars a second shadow stretched, the Channel New chopper having pulled up, circling over the top of the bridge to capture views from the opposing side, whilst the smaller, blue and white police helicopter manoeuvred into the open space.

All around police cars continued to draw up, one by one nervous officers from many precincts climbed out. Shutting the doors to their vehicles they began to usher the traffic on, whilst others started to cover the strange creature. One by one, and in keeping with procedure hand gun after hand gun was drawn. Barrel after barrel carefully rested against the rim of sky blue car doors.

The presence of weapons was not lost on the lost turtle. Leaning over the metal barrier those present observed the creature narrow its hazel eyes, a look of intense concentration apparent.

"Step away from the edge …" another mechanical voice instructed. Don heard them, but his mind was on other things. The water of the Hudson didn't rise and fall in the same way was its counterpart at the beach. But never the less the drop was something that he was certain he could survive. "Step away from the edge, and surrender." Don's fingers wrapped around the thick sandstone plinth. From the corner of his mouth a small amount of pink appeared, he knew he couldn't run any longer. Evidently so did the metallic voice. "Surrender."

Don's head moved slowly from side to side, he didn't realise it but the camera on the Channel Six helicopter perfectly captured his whispered 'no'. His Father may keep him hidden away, but he had a distinct feeling that surrendering to these people would result in a far more sinister type of prison.

"Surrender your position." The voice repeated for the third time, "This is your final warning." It added after a seconds pause.

Don's head turned back, his intelligent eyes carefully counting and estimating who would be most likely to shoot first. There were so many nervous faces, fear shining in their eyes like beacons on a dark night. In the back of his head Saki's words echoed ominously, _"And mob mentality is a dangerous thing …" _

He already knew that. But it didn't cause his hands to relinquish their hold on the coarse sandstone. Blinking he turned his head to the distant skyline. With the wisps of white cloud that marred a sky as blue as the ocean he had been taken too. The camera on the helicopter focussed onto his face, and a thousand and one different sets of eyes all observed the thoughtful manner in which he bit down onto his lower lip. The nervous side on glance he gave to the massed police men, the camera missed the tightening, and consequentially whitening of his knuckles, the slight bend in his legs as he built up the power necessary to clear the stone barrier.

The viewers may have missed the obvious signs but one of the gathered policemen did not. A single gun cocked, the metallic **_…click…_** lost beneath the blanket of whirring helicopter engines, the hammer clipped backwards, the owner of the gun knew what he was doing. The creature couldn't escape, and that was what it seemed to be considering …

A single shot rang out, and at first those gathered on the bridge thought a car had backfired, but then, before the sound had even dissipated fully into the air the creature's body draped over the banister to plummet from the side of the bridge and into the murky waters below …


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13**_

"Stop the van …" Leonardo's instruction didn't fall on deaf ears. In his seat the leader doubled over, letting out laboured breath after breath. Lifting pain-tainted eyes to the tinted window his expression changed from mild discomfort to absolute horror. Tinged with a dark green, human and little brother followed the path of the creepily still, plunging body. "Don …" he gasped, crawling to the rear of the van to push open the small window in the back of the vehicle. Pressing his face to the tiny gap he drank in the fresh air.

"Is he …" Michelangelo prompted nervously. Leo could 'sense' his brother's physical trials. It was a given, in the same manner in which Donny was supposed to be able to slap a band aid on anything and make it better.

Leo merely shook his head in response. Between the echoing shot, and jarring sense of ad-nauseam he simply didn't know. It was too close to call. Way too close to call.

"I'm there …" Turning off the engine Casey threw the door of the van open, and raced across the street. Clearing the metal wire fence in one smooth motion, he sprinted across the open ground to swan dive into the filthy waters most New Yorker's proudly called the Hudson.

_**x-x-x-x**_

The ambiguity experienced by those beneath the bridge was not any easier for those that had been present at the scene of the shooting. The red haired driver of the caramel coloured Chevy very nearly crashed the car when the gun went off. In the back seat, beneath the knitted blanket a cry of surprise intermingled with upset erupted forth, closely followed by an instinctive grab for the door handle. In the front seat April leant over and grabbed the top of the blanket, yanking it firmly back down over the second Little Green Man of New York.

"What are you going to do!" she hissed at the angrily thrashing boy. "Stay here, check in with your brothers." Letting out a long sigh she climbed out of the car, swinging the door closed rather dejectedly. Closing her eyes the warmth of the sun didn't do anything to settle the sickening nerves that boiled in the pit of her stomach. Until her fingers ran over her eyes, and tiny droplets of moisture smeared against her mascara April didn't realise how truly shocked she was. Letting out a single long breath she approached the wall of stunned police officers as casually as she could.

"What happened?" the airy manner she succeeded in mustering surprising even her self. _(I deserve an Oscar or something …)_

"You missed the news this morning or something?" he was a man nearing retirement. And currently wore the expression of some one who had now, finally, and rather unfortunately, 'seen it all'.

"It was the helicopter that made me stop." April jerked her head back to the hovering Channel Six chopper. "I had on McGraw 'n' Call."

"You're telling me you seriously didn't hear anything about 'New York's Little Green Man' on McGraw?" the man clearly sounded sceptical.

"That wasn't a prank? I mean, I heard it, but I just thought it was the morning wind up." _(Come on …)_ she willed the man, the small knot in her stomach continuing to twist.

"You didn't see our Little Green Man right now!" he snapped at her incredulously.

"If I had do you think I would have stopped?" she shot back at him.

The man took a deep breath, "Look, ma'am." Having composed himself he continued in a standard 'personnel' voice "There has just been a shot fired at something that should be in bloody Roswell. Right now if you are looking for gossip I suggest you go back to 'Rod McGraw and his morning madness'."

"Okay …" nodding her head she began to make her way back towards the car. "Perhaps you can tell me something though officer? Do you think this 'man' is dead?" Shrugging, April slouched her shoulders and grimaced, "It would sure help me sleep better tonight if you could …" her hand raised and made a careless throw away gesture "maybe drop a hint."

"Lady, I was on the front line, and even I don't know what happened."

Again April nodded her head, "Thanks anyway." Opening the car door she climbed slowly back in. Through the reflection in the rear view mirror she saw a limb shaped bump run over a concealed head. Turning the key in the ignition she began to drive on before striking up quiet conversation. "I've got good news …" leaving the main road she pulled up into a secluded service road. "Officer on the front line couldn't swear to a hit."

"Leo felt so'ethin'." An uncharacteristically small voice replied.

Licking her lips April remained quiet, both of her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Don's not an idiot Raph. He might be slightly confused right now, but he isn't stupid."

"Said it looked like a sack o'potatoes jus' droppin' down."

_(Alright …)_ April certainly hadn't expected that. "Need a hug?"

"Nah."

"Right, well that's too bad. Cos I could really do with one right about now."

A small snort came from the back, before the mass of beige wool began to shift. Emerging from the depths Raphael's dejected face cracked into a false smile. "Guess I'll hafta see what I c'n do." Peering through the back window a single keen eye checked the area. Satisfied it was safe he slipped off the back seat and slid into the passenger seat. "Yo're'ly want a hug off th'pirate?"

Smiling weakly, April pulled him close, "Brad Pitt would be a preference but I guess you can do."

"That's al'aight, I'll just pretend yo'Jennifer."

_**x-x-x-x**_

"Lookie there …" leaning forwards behemoth and crime lord followed the descent of Donatello with curious, almost bemused expressions. Chuckling Saki leant back in his heated leather seat and picked up the radio.

"That is certainly one way to deliver my prize."

"Sure is Boss."

"Get the men onto the police boats. When that river is dragged I want the boy returned to me." Tuning the radio he issued the same order to his lurking soldiers. "The boy needs to know his Father cares."

"Yo'gottit Boss." At last, a little bit of good old fashioned bone breaking. After three weeks of walking around on tip toes and minding his language Hun was pleased to get back into the swing of more normal things. "And Hun, I want him, regardless of the manner in which he entered the water."

Allowing the man to leave the vehicle Saki leant back in his chair, a great leader had to be prepared for the unexpected twists a battle could deliver. And, as a great leader, Oroku Saki was determined to have the final laugh. Shutting his eyes he absent-mindedly tuned in the car radio to his favourite station. The police.

_**x-x-x-x**_

Despite his best efforts Casey didn't get very far. The deceptively warm looking water turned out to be bitterly cold, and after a handful of powerful determined strokes out towards his goal his arms began to ache. Between the floating debris that escaped from the storm drains, the foul taste of the brown water began to flood into his mouth far more than it should. Letting out a rasping breath he struck the surface of the water with his hands before ducking beneath the surface of the water to look around. From the shore line the base of the Brooklyn Bridge didn't appear that far out, in the water it was a totally different ball game.

And so it was with much reluctance Casey resurfaced and treaded water. Here he patiently waited for the jump suit orange, donut proportioned coastguard boat. Extending his limbs upwards he accepted the hands, and reassuring grips from the two guards. Deposited down onto the rubber surface of the boat he offered the stern faces of the river officials a bright smile. "Figured I'd make sure it was dead …"

Either way, they believed him, and following a caution Casey Jones was dumped on the jetty none the wiser. Pulling the aluminium lined blanket tightly round his shoulders Casey's eyes remained on the water beneath the bridge. _(C'mon Donny-boy … give us a sign …)_

Huddled, and powerless two brothers saw the raven haired vigilante's head move slowly from side to side.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Chapter 14_**

It took an eternity.

From the instant his finger tips left the reassuring grainy stone to the moment he struck the surface of the water. He had been fortunate. The plinth was far wider than he had judged; consequentially his unblemished shell clipped the outer edge of stone. He didn't know it at the time, but the error in judgement saved him from the police issued 9mm that was released within nanoseconds of his escape. Knocked from his smooth descent he no longer plummeted downwards feet first, his right shoulder was slightly further forward causing him to tumble head over feet in a clumsy, seemingly lifeless dive. And yet, despite all of the flaws in his bid for freedom Don was calm. For the first time since his ordered world had been disturbed the night before he knew what to expect. The surface didn't appear brown any longer, it more of a dirty greyish black. And now that he was no longer on a straight course impact would be painful. And sudden. He was likely to have a great deal of the breath he held knocked from his lungs. The tendrils of air that tore over his moss green complexion transformed into water long before his mind computed the change in atmosphere.

Time slowed.

Gravity performed her task effectively. As did the water of the Hudson. As expected the air he held within was released upon a painful, face first impact. The serene surface of the river disturbed for a heartbeat before welcoming the young turtle into its tempestuous depths. It became a battle of wills, in spite of her apparent calm the river hid a determined rip tide. Vicious currents wrapped around his flailing limbs, dragging him along the riverbed. Instinct wanted Don to swim on his front, nature, and his environment kept him in an improvised backstroke. His legs kicked powerfully to keep him upright, whilst his arms flailed from side to side to keep his form more or less erect.

Déjà vu.

He had never been exposed to this volume of water before. Yet despite his body's demand for air he wasn't afraid. The body of cool water that buoyed him along tugged at something that lurked in reaches of his mind. Some small part of his being felt like it had been in this situation before. Which was absurd. The current was waning, giving him one final playful jolt it sent him spiralling into calmer, shallower waters. Twisting himself round onto his front, Don powered his way upwards. His eyes yearned to close, a sign that he had been underwater too long, and for a second he allowed them to do so.

_Pain. Intense, unadulterated pain that coursed through every fibre of his being.. Akin to something he had never felt before. In his watery prison he let out a scream of pain. _

In the river Don's still form thrashed and he forced his eyes to open. The burning sensation in his lungs. That was the source of his pain. Lungs that screamed for air. His head tilted upwards, through waterlogged, blurred vision he made out the shimmering glare of the sun. _(Oxygen)_ Clinging to that goal he continued his ascent, breaking the surface on his third stroke. Spluttering Don shook his head from side to side repeatedly, drinking in mouthful after mouthful of air.

"Oh God …" the current that he had interrupted had carried him a good thirty metres down river. Getting his bearings Don let out a hoarse whistle, the Brooklyn Bridge was now a happy part of the skyline, and the apartment blocks and high rises had traded themselves for storage facilities and warehouses. "Now what?"

Returning to his Father appealed. But that involved wondering the streets of New York and risking the wrath of its population. Not to mention having finally lost the Eye In The Sky he had no desire to cross paths with it once again. As much as it terrified him searching for a way home would have to take place at night. Which meant he needed somewhere to hide. And as useful as the river had been he wasn't a sea turtle. Not to mention the river would be the first place the people he had left behind would look. _(And anyone else) _The sun, or perhaps Mother Nature took pity on him. Golden rays cast downwards, flickering and dancing playfully over the waters top to guide his eye to the unremarkable rusting tube.

At approximately two metres in diameter the storm drain was certainly large enough to enter. Numb hands ran over the top of the metal structure, curious eyes peering through the blackened metal grate and into the inky darkness that stretched beyond. It didn't appear to get narrower, and a quick glance to the sky indicated that there would be no rain today. There was barely a cloud in the azure sky.

Sliding his thick fingers into the gaps on the grate Don began to feel out the remainder of the drain with his feet, "Yes!" A broad, relieved smile spread over his face; turning both of his hands upside down so that his fingers now faced back down towards the water he took a deep breath before disappearing beneath the surface of the water once again. Through a combination of touch and blurred sight he discovered the lip of the grate after a metre or so. Surfacing he altered his position once again, this was going to take some doing. This time only one arm moved downwards, fingers carefully interlacing with each metal bar whilst he eased one side down lower and lower, with his left cheek now resting against the surface of the water he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and ducked down.

His arm bent at the elbow to slot beneath the grate, twisting his shoulder round his body avoided becoming wedged, though he grimaced in pain when his shell grazed along the lower metal lip of the drain. Resisting the urge to cry out in pain, his right arm came down to help his left, pushing it through two arms broke the stagnant surface within. Using his legs to propel himself forward Don had to wiggle his hips to gain full entry into his temporary abode. Sitting up right inside the tunnel he let his legs fall back into the river, resting his forehead against the grate he let out a long sigh. That had been tough, really, really tough.

Adrenaline had carried him through his ordeal in the river, sheer ingenuity had thrown a mob from his tail, and now he felt spent. The whirring of a helicopter jarred his sinking head back up. "Come on …" he murmured pulling his legs upright and sliding them out of the river. With a reluctant glance back to the warm light of day Don retreated into the quiet, still, guaranteed sanctuary, New York's sewage system could give him.

x-x-x-x

He would have to travel at night. But then he had figured that out before he had taken residence in the sewers. His right hand ached terribly, flexing the fingers he cringed at the pain that radiated through his knuckles and wrist. He didn't want to think about what he had done to Raph's eye. Chuckling he continued to wander aimlessly through dark tunnel after dark tunnel, before finally his exhausted body refused to co-operate. Sliding down the curved wall Don rubbed his temples, he was done. And the area around him was quiet enough, leaning his head back against the dank stone he drifted off to sleep …

_**Finally, a pleasant dream. The sensation of floating returned. Floating on a sea of black. Soothing, endless, dark that spread as far as he could 'see'. Lying there was not so bad. At first. This place felt timeless; there was no one else but Don. And the dark. No demented brothers trying to steal him from his Father. No Father to make him do accounts or send him to bed early. Suddenly the calm didn't feel as soothing. No Father to tuck him in at night. No Father to hold him when the nightmares came. No Father to … his mind reeled, and a familiar fear began to swallow him. He moved, or rather he tried to. The dark wouldn't release him, "Father?" he lashed out at the void around him, "Father!"**_

_Baxter wasn't entirely sure what it was he was needed for. But never the less he attended the formal invitation. After all with little more than a head left he dreaded to think what Saki would remove next if he refused. _

_Hun made the delivery, just as he had been ordered. Kicking open the door he unceremoniously dumped the unconscious Donatello onto the floor. "Boss wants ya t'make him an heir." Folding thick arms over a broad chest he waited for a response._

"_Does he now?" the temptation to ask if Hun was being replaced was all too great, but for now the 'good doctor' held his tongue. "And am I allowed to know which turtle it is I am to make an heir of?"_

"_What diff'rence that gonna make?"_

"_Because indoctrination takes time my boy. And since it is my head on the line I really need to know what it is I am dealing with."_

"_Boss wanted h'self some real smarts." Hun sneered. "So, think ya can do th'job?"_

"_Of course I can!" Baxter had snapped in response. Moving away he uncovered the large glass prison. Four thick Perspex walls bound together within a steel frame. Set into the ground were several currently closed ducts. When the tank was fully prepared they would exude proteins, nutrients, but most importantly of all, water. Streams of bubbling, soothing, warm water. In the roof of Donatello's new home two full oxygen tanks were situated, a simple plastic mask ready to be dropped into the tank and attached to its resident. Folding the metallic arms of his bio-suit it was the scientist's turn to smile. "No light, no physical stimulation, I'd be impressed if he could even tell you his name."_

"_Boss don't want no vegetable."_

"_Shredder wants an heir, and in a week he shall have it."_

_**x-x-x-x**_

The dream was so vivid. Jerking up from his slumber Don took deep breath after deep breath. Creeping, twisting dark that held no end. Leaning over his head found its way back into his hands, stubby cold fingers massaging the dull throbbing that radiated behind his eyes. If he didn't know better (and he did) he would have called it real. Inhaling deeply through his nose he parted his lips to exhale. Don may have been unaware of the simple meditation exercise he was performing, or even the existence of the man who had taught him, and yet the simple technique eased his fears.

"Freaky …" letting out a final breath Don pulled himself up to his feet. A shiver ran up his spine, glancing up the darkened passage way he frowned slightly. He couldn't be certain but he thought he had just heard something.

…_**cuh…**_

A dull echoing sound, bringing one hand up filthy green fingers etched a line in the grime. His first instinct was to ignore it. There could be any number of explanations for it. _(Rats … someone fixing the mains …)_ the smile that had come to his face faded. _(Alligators …) _Nervous habit crept through as he bit down onto his lower lip. He could go back. Wait near the crack of light that was coming through the nearby manhole cover. That could work.

It sounded like water. Ream upon ream of rippling, cascading water. Shivering, Don continued to pad quietly along the passageway, his path unwittingly wavering into the shadows that scared him so. The junction he was closing upon resembled a cross roads. The larger stone clad path was the one he walked upon right now, interspersed at uneven intervals stood two metal tunnels. The one to his right upon closer inspection appeared to be housing a metal grate. Grimacing at the sewage he waded into to cross from end of the junction to the other Don studied the steel rimmed mouth that branched from the path.

…_**cuh…tap…cuh…**_

Father had teased Don for his imagination many a night. But there was no mistaking the foreign sounds that filtered into the immediate area. Water could splash and tinkle, but there was a definite clarity to the hollow sounds that resonated from his dark sanctuary. Licking his lips Don's eyes sought out the source, straining his eyes narrowed when they caught sight of what appeared to be a moving shadow.

"Not again …" with the aid of water, his whispered lament was captured and amplified in the closed space. With no where to go, he slid into the metal tunnel, pressing his stained, sewage scented body into the shadows.

…_**tap…sniff…tap…**_

At first Don didn't know what to make of the other creature. It made no sense to him. His Father was no liar, and yet before his very eyes was evidence to the contrary. The shrivelled, straggly-haired rodent seemed unaware of the curious eyes that kept a wary watch over everything that it did. Inhaling the air once again, the creature crossed from the narrow concrete path that it walked upon to the other. Unaware of the captivated audience it held, it lowered its frail, near skeletal frame down towards the murky waters that constituted the sewer's water way, a battered plastic water bottle being produced to collect the liquid that ran through there.

_(How odd…)_ Bandages were wrapped around the creatures paws. Well specifically the ones that could be called feet. From the folds of what appeared to be a filthy red robe a leathery brown tail sprung forth. The tip of which curled down round the haunches upon which the creature now perched. Though it seemed peaceful Don had no wishes to startle it, or attract its attention. Extending one hand out along the wall he slid it over the chipped, cold surface, his shell rolling with his uncertain form. "Ah …" the hiss of pain was free from his lips before he could stop it. Bringing his foot back up he gritted his teeth.

"Who is there?"

At first Don didn't know what to make of the challenge. As the seconds ticked by the silhouette of his mentor straightened up, a knobbly, walking stick clearly being brandished as a make shift weapon. Pressing his hand over his mouth Don kept a close eye on the now alert creature. The animal turned its head, the black nose at the end of the brown snout twitching fervently. Sturdy silver, yet silken whiskers vibrated, whilst ears swivelled in smooth concentric circles. The fur that covered its body stood on end, and despite Don's absolute stillness the creature's wary expression did not pass.

"I'll ask again." The voice sounded old, and male. Slowly it lowered its stick, two bare, haggard claws resting over the polished dome. The tip of the walking stick rested between the creatures spread feet, its choice of apparel coming to just below its knees. "Who, or what is present?"

Blood welled from the cut on the sole of Don's foot. Wriggling his toes in a pointless attempt to ward off the discomfort he only served in freeing a few drops of blood. In the perfect silence they descended down to create a small splash amongst the filthy water he hid in.

The creature didn't smile, though some of the tension in its frail shoulders dissipated. Dark brown-black eyes that flickered over the exposed openings snapped to the metal tunnel that it stood in front of. Through the darkness, and murky shadow the rat's eyes locked onto the source of his hour long search. Not that the youth would know that, oh no, Splinter had listened to all that his children had told him. There was a game to be played now, and he was determined to win.

In his darkened refuge Don's eyes widened in fright. Shaking his head from side to side he considered the merits of running away, and yet the longer he unwittingly held eye contact with the creature, the harder he found it to galvanise his legs into action. Finally he found his voice, "Don't hurt me …" it was a familiar plea, and one that he sincerely hoped this animal would listen to.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 15**_

An hour had passed. An hour where two young turtles were stranded in a battered van. An hour where their only link to the outside world was surrounded by irate police men demanding answers. Sighing, Leo and Mike stood side by side, observing all.

That was then, and this was now. A boat combed the length and breadth of the Hudson, its plain wire nets turning up all manner of deluge bar the only thing that the entire population of New York cared about. Rusted metal trolleys were discovered, along with more than a handful of false alarms. It was surprising how large clumps of kelp intermingled with sewage could appear turtle like when one party was desperate for resolution, and the other just wanted clarification. As the time crawled by the police successfully moved along the public as well as the coast guard. Sweep after sweep was done until eventually they to moved onwards, extending the search to encompass further up, and down the river.

It was getting quiet at the base of the bridge, Casey had paced up and down on the dockside his eyes never leaving the murky water or turning back to surreptitiously shake his head every time a sizable piece of seaweed was pulled from the river. The elation that followed each discovery was nothing compared to the crash that followed it when the false alarm was recorded. In Casey's mind the only thing that could be counted was that if they hadn't found Don yet, he could still be somewhere. It was the sort of childlike hope that a Don in charge of his faculties would have dismissed despite the sentiment it held. Cold, hard fact dictated, the longer the body remained in the water, or undiscovered, the greater the likelihood that the individual in question was gone.

With no authorities about to question it, a private boat emerged onto the river, from his place in the navy blue SUV Saki had taken great care in following each report and false start. Co-ordinating his soldiers accordingly, but now that the authorities were gone it would be foolish to not check their work. Unlike the police Saki had the money, and the wisdom to recognise that there was more than one way to locate a turtle. Turning the key in the ignition the vehicle glided round the docklands, before navigating Brooklyn Bridge and drawing up very close to the khaki Hummer where two little turtles hid away. It was with grace that Saki slid from the car to walk to the green vehicle, his bare knuckles tapping on the smooth pane with a patient **_...tap-tap-tap..._**

"I can hit him ..." Mike whispered quietly watching him cross the street. "If you want?" Swivelling round in the chair Mikey waited for confirmation, in the back of the van Leo dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. Now that the initial queasiness had passed his mind was reeling with the knowledge that Don had yet to surface.

_**...tap-tap-tap...**_

Turning to look at the smooth glass Mike pouted slightly, dismissing the older man with a wave of his hand. "Well then, what do you want?"

Walking up the length of the van, Leo let the window slide downwards into the base of the car door. "Yes?" he asked tersely.

"You're not going to come out and help with the search?"

Leonardo teeth dug into his lower lip in tandem with the elevation of his head and a distinctive roll of his eyes. "You are unbelievable." looking back down at the older man from his elevated height the boy smirked. "We'll be out in a moment, and for the record." he continued with distinctly clipped tones, "If Raphael was here right now I wouldn't have done a thing to stop him when he hit you with this truck." Reaching across he rolled the window back up before leading Mikey to the rear doors, sliding his swords into their sheaths he dropped down onto the ground, securing the van before making his way to the river bank.

"What's the plan?" The ground at the very edge of the Hudson was dank, and the smell revolting. Downwind of the Foot activity the three loitered together. Beneath his silver cape Casey shivered, whilst Mikey rocked back and forth restlessly on the soles of his feet. For his part Leo simply stood; his eyes settled calmly upon the still waters. His swords remained sheathed, and his poise was absolute. He didn't move, and for the longest moment Casey didn't know whether to repeat his request or simply give Leo the time necessary to compute his words and come up with an answer.

_**x-x-x-x**_

The traffic behind them peaked minutes after Raphael moved into the front seat; as a result the pair were stuck until it quietened off. April clung to Raphael for a long time before she finally broke away and leant back in her own seat. Smiling weakly her hand automatically tuned in the next radio station, leaving soft rock to fill the void that hung. Interspersed between the songs were generally off hand comments in regards to the 'creature'. Some were humorous, some critical, some reports claimed it was a hoax, maybe a hazing prank gone wrong, others talked of the travesty of a lost opportunity.

None talked about the fact that the creature had been terrified and alone, and none appeared to consider the possibility that it might have just been lost. Green eyes studied the waning traffic in the rear view mirror. "I think we can go."

In the seat next to her Raphael stared dismally out the far passenger door window. His head lay against the head rest and at first he didn't respond to April's suggestion, drawing breath he spoke softly, "Whose guna tell Splin'er?" One hand nipped the bridge of his nose before he turned to look at April.

"When we get to the store I'll phone the others and we'll figure something out."

"Al'aight."

Slowly the car returned to life, and after a stall of the engine the car crawled away.

_**x-x-x-x**_

Shredder walked up to meet the boat as it pulled into the dock, dotted over the deck were numerous scuba clad soldiers. One by one they peeled off their masks and reported in, and one by one they were duly dismissed. It seemed that there were some things that even money couldn't grant.

With a soft laugh the man departed his boat and began to walk towards the huddled trio. To his surprise they had done nothing but sit, "Waiting to steal my prize." he murmured softly, a dark smile playing over his lips.

Leonardo turned to look greet Saki, it was the first time his eyes left the deceptively calm river. "Yes?" a smile of his own played, though there was no spark to his words.

"It seems that my men have been unable to give me my heart's desire." The sincerity with which the older man spoke turned the stomach of all present. Other than a sudden lack of restlessness on the part of Michelangelo there was no physical or verbal response.

Casey's head tilted upwards his expression indicative of a need for movement, tossing his head to one side, damp hair slapped down upon the blanket he hid within. No one was speaking, "Cryin' shame there." so Casey did. The mixture of defiance and defeat mingled well with his brogue. Wrinkling his nose he waited to see what would come next.

"Indeed." Saki's tone took a turn for the worse, and disdain crept through, "But defiance is not something I would employ on such uneven ground and when so greatly outnumbered." Brown eyes caught Mikey's subtle edging to be nearer to his stoic brother.

Blinking slowly Leonardo settled his feet, and dropped his shoulders marginally. "Indeed." the coldness with which he spoke impressed Shredder.

"The loss of my Son has rendered me lenient in this matter." he pressed on, barely able to contain the satisfaction he felt at such an absolute victory. "You may take your leave from my presence today." He was gloating, and the manner in which Leonardo pressed his lips into a thin line indicated he had struck a nerve. Idly the man wondered if he was literally biting his tongue, chuckling softly Shredder completed his assessment of the situation, "I feel we all need time to grieve." His head tilted to allude better to the victory he had, "Don't you?"

"The contract is void." Leonardo started cautiously, his words hollow. "It never existed." he was struggling with something, but when he spoke again he appeared to have come to a conclusion, "And when we've recovered Don and buried him I am going to personally ensure you lose every thing you hold dear."

Saki paused, a similar dark smile upon his face. Studying the turtle there was no mistaking that he meant every word he said. And now it was his turn to choose his words carefully, "Are you threatening my life Leonardo?"

"No." he responded with eerie calm, his eyes meeting Saki's cold orbs without flinching. The last time they had stood in this pose he had looked away, this time he held the man's gaze until he blinked. "_You_ don't hold life dear." He was done here, "Mike." turning from the water the pair began to walk away, Casey taking up the rear after a moment's pause to check that Shredder wasn't about to send a small armada after them.

Climbing into the van Casey flicked the heating on before kicking his shoes off. "Now what?"

Leonardo crumpled down into the first available seat, stretched out he nipped the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. "Get Raph ... Regroup ..." an air of defeat hung in the van, "Go home."

_**x-x-x-x**_

April's phone barely rang once before it was picked up. "Yello?" Raphael didn't sound his usual peachy self.

"Raphie, where are you?"

"April's."

"We're goin' home, we need to speak to Splinter."

"Been there, done that. He ain't in, Ape's left a message on the machine. We're waitin' 'ere fer 'im."

The line went quiet, whilst words were exchanged, finally Mikey came back onto the line. "Hang tight, we're gonna go back and get him."

"Al'aight." Disconnecting the phone, Raph leant back before turning his attention to April. "Ape, yo' need t' change the message."


	16. Chapter 16

_A.N;_ Rene, this is for you ... loved that review for chapter 14. Apologies, but I have a laptop, I have a connection, so you may now all have the final installments.

_**Chapter 16**_

Rat and turtle stood toe to toe. Releasing a held breath the rodent retreated from the emerging shadow, his intelligent eyes maintaining a steady vigilance on the newcomer. The rat held himself carefully, his snout tipping upwards in order to inhale the strange scent of the other. And under the circumstances that Splinter was doggedly creating 'other' was an excellent term for Donatello.

Under the thick layers of grime lay the shivering frame of his quietest Son. Currently the child's gait favoured his uninjured left foot, whilst the right continued to leak droplets of red. His dark eyes narrowed, the pupils carefully crawling over the curves of the boy. In the shade a shell that would normally be a rich yellow-gold in colour was a sludge that smelt so foul it was difficult not to blanche. It had also left him with an unusually dark brown shell. Other surface wounds that he had sustained during his fall, and fight with the Hudson lay hidden from view, though the salty scent of blood and sweat intermingled with the heighty, palpable fear that laced the air. To Splinter's relief his Son appeared to have been treated well during his incarceration, his arms and legs still held their muscular tone, and his stomach appeared bloated. He hoped it was with a rich diet and not hunger. Beneath his weary mask he smiled, with a few aesthetic corrections his child would be in good stead.

The rat-squirrel-rabbit-man was giving him a very strange appraisal. Its eyes held a familiar expression, one of fear interlaced with curiosity. Though the initial tension had faded from its wrought shoulders it didn't entirely lower its guard. Under the intense scrutiny he was afforded Don could make out a familiar air. It was afraid of him, or at the very least nervous. It seemed that, in the same manner he had crossed paths with it, this was the first time that it had come across anything like him. From the pit of his stomach a small grumble emerged breaking the silence that hung like a death shroud in the air.

At this juncture the rat smiled, "You are hungry?"

It was talking to him? Don's jaw dropped slightly and he licked his lips with the very tip of his tongue. After momentary indecision the youngster nodded his head, murmuring. "I am." The body of water carrying, and amplifying the sound.

The rat's playful smile widened, giving its haggard appearance a gentle, more approachable edge. "Well, that is something I can remedy." The remaining tension vanished from his shoulders and he stepped back the barest amount. Eyes that had taken careful stock of the boy now narrowed, and the warm tone piqued slightly. "You are hurt."

Don's eyes widened a little more, and he nodded dumbfounded. The bizarre creature, not only sounded friendly, it appeared concerned too. Opening his mouth to answer for a second time the rat turned from him; in a smooth easy gesture.

"We shall remedy that as well." He told him, before holding out one carefully wrapped hand, "Come; let me take you to my home."

With few other options available to him Don cautiously accepted.

_**x-x-x-x**_

Don stood still. Never in his wildest dreams had he considered such a thing possible. And right beneath New York City no less? Before him stretched a wide, fantastically lit expanse; the architecture alone indicated the early 20's art deco period.

Tilting his head upwards Don drank in the site of the station in a near identical way to his first true visit. Manoeuvring his crouched form through the lair Splinter kept stealing back the simplest of glances to his silent son.

"You have a TV and everything!" Don finally erupted, the awe in his voice only surpassed by the wonder in his eyes.

"I do."

"Why?"

Splinter paused in his careful fabrications to take note of the flashing red light a top of the lair's answer machine. Messages were so rarely left that he dare not leave Don with the opportunity to exercise his still clearly insatiable curiosity. Even without invitation he was nervously edging towards one of the open train carriage doors, intent on having a surreptitious peek.

"So that I might know what happens in the world above me." Splinter stood in front of the answer machine, his hands resting carefully behind his back, a head tilted to one side. "There is no need to linger in door ways; you may explore my home if it so pleases you."

"Really?" Don's head turned back, clearly he was surprised. "I wish my Father was as lenient as you! He always makes me go to bed at 8, and stay in."

Holding his tongue Splinter merely nodded his head at Don's comments, waiting for the child to vanish into Leonardo's carriage before dealing with the message.

"_Splinter; I have …"_ the voice on the other end of the phone cracked slightly. _"Some news for you."_ It was female too. To his right the old rat sensed the presence of his terminally inquisitive son. _"I'm at the store with the …"_ Splinter's eyes closed and he silently prayed that April would not say something that would spook his 'guest'. _"others. Er …."_ Splinter turned his attention from the machine, a patient smile silently bidding Donatello to wait a moment for the explanation. _"Mike … I think Mike is coming to pick you up. We'll talk soon."_ The line went dead, and the automated voice of the machine began to reel off the details of the time and date of the call.

Over it Splinter spoke, his voice as calm as ever. "Her name is Ms O'Neil." The name appeared to mean nothing to his son, and he continued to scrutinise the old rat's face intently. "She is a human who knows of my existence. Over the years she has helped me amass these things you see before me."

"Wow; my Father gets me everything I want too."

"I'm sure he does." This was going to be harder than he had first imagined.

"Yea, he got me a harmonica, and I've been practicing really hard and just perfected 'Skip to my Lou'." Don's face fell, "I lost it."

"How did that occur?"

Don's mouth fell into a slight pout, "I was being chased through the city by a mob, I dropped it." Leaning into the doorway he pouted fully, "I loved that thing." Turning on his heel he studied the contents of the room he was lingering in. "Someone's a neat freak." Don commented a loud, hopping through the carriage to get a better look at the neatly stacked shelves and crisply made bed. Balancing on his good foot Don glanced around before hobbling out, to greet the rat that still stood.

"You are free to explore." Splinter told him calmly, his weight shifting by mere degrees between his cane and his feet.

"But that place looks like my room. It's sterile. I'd be afraid of breaking something."

Splinter chuckled, "Then there are other rooms that may make you feel comfortable. The salvage room is to the left of the train carriages. My private quarters are there." Splinter raised his cane to point out the only stone alcove in the entire space. Hanging from the wall was a yellow chiffon drape separating it from the lair. "The kitchen is this way, and that is the ..." now Splinter faced his first conundrum. How to explain away the dojo? Don's workplace was easy, and hopefully he would recognise some of his works, but the dojo, complete with hanging weapons, bamboo mat and herbal first aid kits?

"Neat!" Don had found something to entertain himself already? With his child's back turned Splinter moved with the grace and beauty his old bones had learnt in their youth. Arriving at his side he watched Don wade into the room he had been sleeping in until three short weeks ago. Looking to the floor red smears were starting to trail, Splinter held his tongue. Don had found his personally made solar system, complete with working cogs and correctly scaled planets set at the correct distance apart. A slight wobble on the part if the boy resulted in his fingers brushing the far side of the device thus setting it off. Now it span at an awkward speed clunking and grating away whilst it completed a circuit. "That is so cool!"

"Indeed." The blood that dripped from his son's foot was his primary concern. "Come." One stringy hand rested gently upon Donatello's forearm the merest of touches pulling him from the room and into the shared living space. "Let me look at your foot." he told him, guiding him to the brown salvaged sofa that ran the breadth of the former station. Depositing him there he left him to his own devices whilst he collected fresh water, bandages, salve and other condiments. "What sort of food do you enjoy?" Splinter called from within the kitchen his hand hovering over the open fridge door, and raw fish he had pre-prepared.

"Do you have any soup?" Don called back, his aching foot conflicting with his still buzzing curiosity. There were so many nooks and crannies left to poke about in. Swivelling around on the sofa he spotted a battered book of artists, and his interests were held. Stretching out he pulled the book free and began to flick through the portraits, biographies, and catalogues of famous paintings and sculptures.

Turning from the fridge Splinter pulled open a cupboard door, stacked in neat piles at the very back were can's of soup. Taking one down he opened it and left it to heat whilst taking through the collected medicinal aids. Placing the tray down upon the low coffee table, his keen eyes caught the book that Don flicked lazily through. "An interesting choice."

"Nyah ..." Don looked up, his hand marking a page with the tip of his thumb, "My Father makes a big deal out of it, but ..." one shoulder haphazardly shrugged. "He like's Cellini, he has a replica in the boardroom, and it looks pretty enough."

"But you prefer other artists?" Settling down upon the lip of the coffee table, the old rat unrolled a length of bandage which he left to soak in a small bowl of alcohol, with a sponge he gently began to wipe away the grime from the boy's foot. "This will sting for a moment." With warning given, Splinter pressed the damp cotton onto the open wound. Following a sharp whimper, and ensuing squirm, Splinter placed one hand upon the boy's shin holding the limb still with a sharp look. "Cellini is an interesting choice. I wonder does your father know of the man himself?" With intimate details of Saki, Splinter suspected that he did, the man saw little in anything and beauty? Splinter, mouth turned down at the corners, Oruku Saki would never see beauty. "I ask, because strictly speaking Benvenuto Cellini was a technically superb architect and sculptor. Some of his most astounding works still stand throughout Italy ..." the bandage had already been expertly wrapped three times about his hand by this juncture, and the old man's hands broke away from the material to tear tape, "a man who had many famous and impressive patrons." Seemingly distracted, Splinter continued in his tale, "And yet despite his success he was a truly repulsive man. A murderer and a fugitive from prison." Dark eyes looked up to see if his child had picked up on the allusion between his 'Father's' favoured artiste, and his 'Father's' true character. "It was fortunate he did works for the Pope's of his time ..."

"So who do you like?" Art over all was dull to him, but good manners did not escape him. Taking the soapy sponge he was given, he began to wash away the grime that covered his upper body, his eyes alert.

"Leonardo." Standing Splinter paused, hobbling round the sofa his keen eyes caught the narrowed eyes and slightly bemused expression of his son. Slowly his head turned to look at the rat incredulously, though the response appeared to be completely subconscious on his part, holding the suspense for a moment longer, the elder of the pair carelessly tacked on, with a soft chuckle, "da Vinci. You have not of him?" nimble hands pulled a biography from the shelf to pass to him.

"Everyone knows da Vinci." Don poured scorn upon the notion.

"He was a brilliant man, was he not? So much more than just a simple artist. A genius of his time no less. His greatest vice, he would start a project and then get tempered by another. His rivalry with Michelangelo was astounding. Being such a well educated man to have one from the gutter no less ascend the social ranks and then not only equal, but better him in some places stirred no level of resentment. The pair would often compete on the same projects in a simple bid to out fence the other ..."

_**x-x-x-x-x**_

Two brothers's ghosted smoothly down the sewer tunnels. Dipping in and out of their own shadows as well as the shadows the sewer's afforded them they grew ever closer to their destination ...

_**x-x-x-x-x**_

"The soup!" Don's head turned to the smoke billowing from the kitchen, the muttered gibberish that slipped from his host's mouth causing his brow to knot.

"Come, help me ..." Splinter muttered, his children ususally entertained themselves, and none as of yet had ever taken any interest in his own hobbies. Helping Don to his feet he guided his son into the smoke filled room.

"Oh boy ..." Don cleared his throat.

On the out crop of the lair the youngest of two walked straight in, catching the still flashing LED on the answer machine he diverted his course from the smoky kitchen to the device. _(Smoky kitchen?!)_ Hot on his heels Leo followed his swords in the process of being removed from his back and thus otherwise engaged. Without giving it any thought Mikey's trajectory changed rounding sharply his hand wrapped around the tails of his brother's bandanna and hastily pulled.

"Gah!"

With his head pulled back Leonardo swords clattered onto the floor.

"_What was that?!" _

From within the kitchen Don emerged, his Father close on his heels...


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter 17**_

The lair looked as it had prior to his re-emergence from the kitchen. On the coffee table were two books, the biography and book on Renaissance artistes. The carriages were as they had been moments earlier, except for, Don didn't understand why his eyes picked up on the folded corner of a threadbare rug but they did. The rug had been flat previously, he was certain of it.

"Someone's been here." he murmured quietly, his tongue slipping out between his lips and wetting them. He was nervous. And his Father knew it.

"I do not see how." Splinter's eyes saw things far less significant than the upturned corner of a rug, there was something long and narrow hastily knocked beneath the large armchair complete with throw. Despite the fact that it still touched the floor there was a distinctive fold in the material. Not to mention the quarter inch that the door to his eldest's carriage was now closed. Previously it had been slid back all the way, now it was marginally a jar.

"Someone's been here!" Don insisted, turning to look at the rat.

"Very well ..." walking to his child's workstation he picked up a flashlight and checked the bulb. Walking back to his side he handed him the device and swept his arm out in a large arc. "I can smell nothing other than sewage. But if it will way lay your fears." The pair walked to the entrance, and a powerful shaft of electric white light shone out. Limping out into the tunnel Don took the time to study the cramped space. His eyes sifted through the shadows cast by the gas pipes and water lines. Venturing further the beam swept over the curved metal supports that interlaced every junction. Turning back he limped slowly up the tunnel a little to trace the light over a tunnel that stretched forever. Sighing in frustration he limped back to the rodent's side.

"I heard something ..." he pressed.

"I may be the largest rat in this sewer, but I can assure you I am not the only one." Splinter hand reached out, and he took the flashlight into it, before catching Don's hand with the other, "Now come, that looks painful."

_**x-x-x-x-x-x**_

The soup was warm, and it tasted _good_. Sipping it from a battered tin mug, Don paid little heed to the way the bed spread hung, or the fact that the rug (and its upturned corner) had now been flattened out once again. Whilst he ate Splinter was treating his swollen, bruised hand. "How did this occur?" he asked, his head not raising as he pressed ice onto the disjointed central knuckle.

"I ..." Don's voice trailed off.

"Donatello?" Splinter did not look up, and his voice remained tentative and low. He didn't appear to catch the slip.

"There are others like me. And ..." he sighed softly, "one of them attempted to hurt me."

"Why?"

Reaching across Splinter began the thankless task of supporting the finger, the blunt force of hitting Raphael squarely in the face with a metal weight had left what looked like a sprain in best case. Sliding a small piece of wood in along the finger he started to interweave a splint into the limb.

"He said he was going to kill me."

"How odd. This may sting." The tip of his claw pressed firmly into the knuckle as he wrapped, "Do you know why?"

Don shook his head between mouthfuls of soup. "He,_ they_, were chasing me through my Father's workplace. Through my home. They're jealous ..."

"How so?" Another seemingly careless question crept out.

"Because I'm not damaged like them." Don paused, and he looked at the rat oddly, "You should come home with me, you're not weird. My Father doesn't know about you, but you can keep me company."

"But then Ms O'Neil would be lonely." Splinter told him, glancing up at Don for a moment with a kind smile. Don nodded, and Splinter continued, "And I owe her a great deal. It would be unfair of me to simply leave the place I've turned into my home so that I may come and live with you and your Father."

"I suppose." Never in his life had Splinter seen his child sulk.

Greeted with a sullen face, Splinter began to fill the gap with cautious phrase in regards to his own passions. "You know who you remind me of? Raphael." That won another odd glance from his usually pensive child. "Another great artist, a pensive and fair man. Handsome too." That won a small smile from his child, and his cheeks deepened to a olive hue, "He was born with a lot of natural talent, and shaped the art world by painting emotions onto his portraits."

A soft chuckle escaped from Don's mouth, and before he gave his words much heed the phrase slipped out, "Sounds like you got Raph and me mixed up." The laughter abruptly stopped, "I'd like to go now."

"Donatello ..." Splinter pressed gently, his nimble fingers tightening the white cotton that now covered his hand.

He wasn't looking at the rat anymore. Something else had caught his eye, it had been a top of the side table the entire time he had sat on the sofa and had his wounds tended to. Wide eyes narrowed, and his head tilted, he'd only seen it now. No, he hadn't seen it now, he'd seen it when he had arrived, just like he had a thousand times ... Ms O'Ne-April had taken it. A family portrait, the five of them, all huddled together, the sociopath, the maniac whom he had clobbered, and the psychopath. They sat all around the large rat that had wrapped his hand and foot, had fed him, and gave him the means to clean up. It tickled the fringes of his mind, like the first snowflake to touch your tongue in winter the recollection formed, blinking he drew his eyes from the picture and locked scared eyes with the rat. He didn't look so great either; he looked scared – like he had been caught in a lie...

"I want to go home;_ now_." he repeated coldly.

"Donatello." it was beseeching him.

"_**NOW!"**_

"You've been lied to Son." Splinter countered, "Why didn't Oruku mention me? And you recognise your brother's names." The hand he was wrapping was snatched free and the mug slammed down upon the arm of the sofa. Despite his tampered memories there was no denying that Don had retained his fearsome (and some what petulant) temper along with his intelligence and curiosity. "Listen to me ..." Splinter caught his child's hands, one wrist at a time he pulled them together and leant forth to look into his child's eyes. Suspicion, and hate greeted him. "Listen to me my Son. You're not meant to be there. You're not a part of that world."

"So you're going to hold me prisoner?" Don spat, "Because I was born right?"

Splinter stopped, his ears twitched, and he wet his own lips. "No." Climbing to his feet the old man picked up his cane and let the tip drop to the floor, walking towards the lair's entrance he waited for the boy to clambour to his feet and meet him there. Etched onto his features was the same suspicion, in response Splinter's words slipped out plainly, "But I do know my own Son, and I know when a battle cannot be won." There was no emotion to the old man's voice, though his eyes held a sadness that flickered on and off as and when he looked upon his child.

"So you'll take me home?"

"I will."

_**x-x-x-x-x-x**_

The pair travelled in silence; the rat held his head high each pace measured, and careful. The route they took was direct three intersections were navigated before the man finally paused at the base of a climbing steel ladder. Turning to face Don, his head tilted upwards before warm, dark eyes studied him, the orbs trailing over his partially scrubbed freshly wrapped form slowly. Locked beneath the calm exterior, Splinter's eyes held a tender warmth that caused the young turtle to look away. "Once we reach the street I can not go much further." it was a statement as measured as each step he had taken, and each word he had spoken appeared to have been pre-selected with care. Stepping aside to allow him to navigate the metal structure, the rat's voice popped up a second time unexpectedly. "You can climb?" With one foot already pressed upon the smooth metal Don turned back to look at him incredulously. A soft smile greeted his scepticism "Without discomfort." His head turned sideways and two eyes trailed to a long tunnel, "There are other ways to the surface that ..."

"I'll be fine." Don interjected, gritting his teeth and climbing. Nearing the half way mark, he added in a clipped tone, "Thank you." It sounded sharper than it was intended.

Sliding through the alleyways with his forgotten Father was a tricky and awkward event. Several times the tip of his wooden cane shot out in front of the boy, holding him back, or pushing him down or into shadow. Bin men, shoppers, simple pedestrians all emerged from nooks and crannies. His delicate nose twitched and ears swivelled, at other instances nothing occurred and he simply bid his child back. Taking him by the hand he squeezed it once before taking him across a partially deserted side street.

"I will go no further."

Their silent dance through the streets in late afternoon had been a magical adventure. Momentarily confused Don stared at the shorter male's back, his expression surprised.

"You said you'd take me home."

Turning Splinter looked up at his child, "And I have." With half a graceful step the rat's entire posture shifted, leaving him on profile to his child own stance. The cane once again was balanced between his wiry feet. His snout turned upwards and his eyes clearly focused upon something on the horizon. Following his gaze he spotted the curved S of the Saki Industries logo. Situated upon a large slate grey, and double glazed building, the monolith appeared to be the apple of the New York skyline. In truth it was completely unmissable. In the pit of his stomach butterflies danced, he was going to get home. His eyes lowered from the building and he looked at the male who claimed to have raised him. He said nothing at first, and upon opening his mouth to thank him, he saw the rat lift his hand and bat aside any further words. After all there was nothing left to say...

_(Fine!)_ Steeling himself Don parted ways, his eyes lifting up to focus upon the building, and the future it represented.

_**x-x-x-x-x-x**_

"Boss ..." Hun's hardened grey eyes scanned the security cameras.

"Yes?"

"Look whose comin' home." Stepping back from the hi-tech security equipment Hun revealed his 'catch' to his employer. Grainy yet skulking was a single figure that Saki had quite honestly not expected to see again. Watching the young turtle navigate another outlying street a fond, dark smile spread over his lips.

_**x-x-x-x-x-x**_

_(Nearly there ...)_ for the third time Don leapt into cover as a stray pedestrian passed him by. Precisely two alleyways over was his home. The majestic Saki building was something that deserved a mighty award, much like the Brooklyn Bridge. His teeth bit down into his lower lip, eyes flitting up, and then down the street before he darted across, his steps sure and light. Reaching a wire mesh fence his single good hand reached up to wrap over the hollow pole that barricaded the shared space, with a grunt and exertion he cleared the fence and landed on the dirty ground hard.

"Dar ..." stumbling Don lost his footing and fell awkwardly to his knees. Looking up, his steadfast race home was halted. Caught in the late sun, a single sewage cover was illuminated.

And despite it all he paused, straightened up, and came to a very simple decision, he went home.


	18. The Fan's Ending

_**AN:**_ Okay, so here is the deal ... over the course of this story there has been a lot of anxious cries for Donny to get 'home'. In the first draft, the ending would have been at the end of Chapter 17, and I'd have left it to the reader to discern where 'home' was. Then, I realised where I wanted him to go, and that didn't fit with you guys. So ... you're going to get both. :-D Up first;

_**Ending 1/2 - The Fan's**_

"Why the Hell did you do that?!" Raphael's temper imploded.

"A good parent does what is best for their child." Splinter's tone was uncharacteristically sharp. And in truth he was not in the best of moods to discuss such matters with his remaining family. "Regardless of how they may feel on the matter."

Sliding his cane away, Splinter retreated to his private quarters, leaving his errant children to clean up what was left of the salves and condiments he had left out earlier. Reaching beneath the armchair Leonardo paused in the retrieval of his blades. Turning his head upwards a half smile spread over his face.

"Hello..."

"Hey ..." hiding in the darkness a fourth form lurked.

"Got lost?" Leo continued, his weary smile spreading into a reflective grin.

"A little." Hidden in the darkness Don took a hesitant step forwards, he could see his first brother continue in his tidying of the lair. With his blades free he saw Leo leave them on the side table, his attention on other matters. "You were ..."

"Staying for dinner?" he was looking at him again, pausing Leo shook his head. "Mikey nearly gave me whiplash." he smirked softly, "I was in my room." his head jerked back to the carriage Don had called sterile. "Then I crawled under the carriage." It was very matter of fact. "Dinner?"

"Mmnn..." The eldest, his eldest brother, turned his attention towards the small kitchen.

"Mikey, Don's coming to dinner." Now he turned away from him fully and disappeared into his room, it meant that in order to maintain tentative conversation with him he had to come further into the family home.

Sliding out of the shadow, Don was given the opportunity to fully bask in his impromptu right hook. "I'm ..." his lips pursed, and the balls of his feet grew itchy.

With a wave of his hand Raph dismissed the stalled apology. "Nya ..." slouched in the curved door of the dojo he shrugged a little before returning to general stoicism. "Coulda been worse."

"Yea," Mikey chimed in, his own form lurking in the kitchen entrance, half an excited eye on his cautious sibling, the other half on a pan that was boiling in the background. Darting from the doorway he shared a wry smile, before adding, "It coulda been a sledgehammer!"

_Complete_


	19. The Original Ending

**_Ending 2 /2 - The Original Ending_**

"Father?"

"Yes, my son?"

"What's it like out there?"

Raising his head, Saki studied his greatest achievement with an amused sparkle in his eye. Standing by a smooth mahogany table he deposited the accounts and moved to stand behind his curious child. Yes, Donatello former member of the Hamato Clan, was his now. Two hands placed down upon the boy's shoulders and he squeezed them tightly, a small smile spreading over his face.

"Out there Don? In the wider world, or in the city?" With a gentle push he pressed the turtle towards the wall constructed of glass.

"Just there."

Two weeks ago he had escaped from Saki's grasp and been swallowed by the city. Fourteen days later it was as if the event had never occurred. Through therapy and drugs Don's brief freedom had been all but suppressed. Now he stood calm and erect his eyes skimming over the rooftops. Turning his head back he looked at his Father's profile. "I mean, I get it. I really do, but not everyone can be unreasonable." No longer captured and thus confused by a real life and an elaborate lie Don's mind worked through each avenue and possible counter argument rapidly. The fear had vanished to be replaced by a calm, rational and irritatingly curious child. "Couldn't I go out, just for a second?"

"I do not trust the good people of New York City to be as reasonable as Mr Bass or myself…" a hand silenced his child's attempted rebuke, "A person can be made to understand, but people are capable of being panicky fools who know no better." A thin smile crept over Saki's face. "Do you understand?"

Don's face turned back to the skyline and he released a long sigh. "Yes Father."

"Now, the accounts are on the table, and I must rush to a meeting."

Resigned to his fate and another day within his room, Don dredged up a wry smile and compliant response. "Yes Father …"

"I shall return later to discuss this weekend."

"Father?" Don's head shot up, all traces of resignation vanishing at the prospect of what was to come. From behind a neutral mask a wide smile broke forth illuminating his features and adding to the hopeful sparkle in his eyes.

"We will go out, just the two of us." His child grasped him around his middle and held the Shredder close. With the boy's head buried deep into his chest the man shot a glance to the large mirror in the far wall. With brows knitted and his mouth slightly parted it was clear to see that he was uncomfortable with the display of affection. Robotically he responded before dragging up a good natured smile.

"12 o'clock, my Son."

Extricating himself from the hold Saki walked out of the room, his features surprisingly neutral.

**_x-x-x-x_**

What to do now? Don's eyes fell upon the accounts and passed them by. Trailing one hand over the surface of the table his head turned to the walk in wardrobe. His father told him that clothes made the man and that as the heir to a fortune he had best get used to that idea. Pulling free a shirt and trousers he tossed them onto his bed before vanishing into the shower room.

Minutes later he emerged with a bathrobe wrapped around his frame. Changing quickly, he walked across to the mirror and admired his reflection. Navy really did bring out the color in his eyes. Chuckling softly Don snapped off a portion of dental floss and started to work on cleaning out the bits of his breakfast from between his teeth.

Mouth wide open, his breath caused the glass to mist up … and less than a foot away three turtles and one rat stood and watched from the other side…

To their left a door was opened revealing Hun, "Boss says times up."

Saying nothing the four filed out.

_Complete_

_Inspired by the song Forget Me Not - Lucie Silvas._


End file.
